Power Ten
by LauraLoo7
Summary: Edward Cullen is the stroke of the Brown University Crew Team. Bella Swan is his new, shy, clumsy sophomore coxswain. Can they learn to get along for his most important season, or will he toss her out of the boat before they reach the finish line?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic. And thanks as always to Megsly, Forever_Liz and SusanAshlea for letting me send them my rough drafts to get their skittles in return._

_Welcome all! So glad you've decided to join the Strokeward Team!_

Chapter 1: Dawn

_**EPOV**_

The air was surprisingly crisp for early September, but the threat of humidity still lingered as the eight oars quietly sliced through the still water of the Seekonk River. It was silent at five a.m. on the river, save for the steady, thumping rhythm of the oars rotating in their oarlocks, the harsh exhalations of breath as we worked and the slight rippling of the water moving in our wake. This was my version of heaven.

"Let her run!" Alice's chipper voice sliced through the bubble I'd created in my head that always helped me focus. Once I finished my stroke I let the oar fall flat on the water and straightened my posture, as did the other seven guys behind me. I had to appreciate Alice's ability to be full of sunshine this early in the morning - and to put up with eight stinky, sweaty men on a regular basis. "Great warm-up, guys. Now, what do you say we cut this pansy shit?"

She and I shared a knowing smirk as she readjusted herself in the **coxswain's** seat - a ridiculously small space at the stern of the boat which I was convinced was strictly designed for contortionists and tiny people like Alice - and pulled the mic of her headset closer to her mouth. I knew the look in her eyes. She was going to put us through our paces today.

"Countdown when ready!" One by one, beginning with my buddy Jasper Whitlock in bow, we counted off until I yelled eight, only inches away from Alice's face. "Ready all. Row." Oars sliced through the calm water and instantly the boat was in motion. Once we all got into a swing, all eight perfectly in time with strong, clean strokes, it was awesome. Perfection was usually an elusive thing this early in the season, so I enjoyed each moment of it.

Alice let me know when the **stroke rate** was at a consistent 28, keeping her eyes on the electronic display, me and the water around her. She yelled at us as we plowed through the water, giving us feedback on the consistency and power of our **catches** and **drives** and the balance of the boat on the **finish** and **recovery**, analyzing every part of our strokes. We were, apparently, a bit rusty.

"Guys, set it up, please," she said. "You're down on the port side." I could feel the shimmy in the boat when it wasn't level, and it pissed me off. When all eight weren't perfectly in-sync, things could easily go bad and catching a **crab** was not something any of us looked forward to. Sometimes the force of the inertia of a boat in motion was enough to throw guys over their oars and into the water. Even a small crab - losing focus just enough that you didn't feather the blade of the oar correctly, sending it slicing down into the water at an odd angle - was enough to have to stop a boat. And as the **stroke**, or eight seat, I did _not_ want to be that guy.

"Tyler, you're **rushing your slide**," Alice chirped, and the speaker crackled. "Eric, you're not **feathering** properly. Everyone, please relax and watch Cullen. He's stroke for a reason." I loved it when Alice got bossy. She called 10 **power tens** on us that morning and by the time we were paddling up to the dock, we were wheezing and coughing from the effort. _Just another day at the office with the Brown University crew team._

As we approached the dock, Alice gave us the order to lift the starboard side oars, allowing us to kiss the dock with the side of our boat. After freeing our feet from the shoes that were attached to the **foot stretchers**, we all freed the oars from their locks and awaited her call. It always gave us a few moments of reprieve while we waited for Alice to disconnect the **cox box.** She bounded out of the stern and stood next to us.

"Count down when ready!" she called again. After we'd counted, she commanded us to climb up and out at once, and then four of the guys ran up and into the boathouse with the oars while the rest of us held the **shell** against the dock. "Hands on," Alice said when we'd resumed our posts next to our respective seats. "Overhead ready, up!" We all lifted the deceptively heavy boat out of the water and over our heads in one fluid motion. There were grunts and groans of protest, as always, as fatigued muscles strained to carry the awkward vessel. "Shoulders ready, down," Alice called and we adjusted the boat onto our shoulders and walked it up the ramp and into the boathouse. It took a few tries to walk it in, but we got the boat on its rack without incident. _Not bad for the first official day._

"Hey Cullen, you slipping or something?" a booming voice asked mockingly. Turning, I was greeted by a wide, toothy grin and the thick shoulders of my friend and roommate Emmett McCarty, who had come in a few minutes earlier. "I saw the stern dipping a bit there when you guys walked it in. Did you spend too much time this summer whacking off and not enough time in the weight room?"

Emmett, Jasper and I had been rowing together since freshman year and had decided to room together early in the semester. Our former roommates did not appreciate the alarm sounding at 3:30 a.m., the frantic dressing in the dark, the odd dieting or drinking behaviors (to keep our weights level) or the extreme camaraderie that we all exhibited. I suppose to an "outsider," it might have seemed odd to have passion for such a torturous endeavor like rowing; but to us, it was everything.

"Bite me, asshole," I said with a smirk, knowing full well that I'd spent ample time in the gym this summer to maintain my form. I'd even convinced my folks to help me buy a Concept II rowing machine or erg as we called it. It was a suitable replacement for the real thing and a formidable adversary. _I fucking hate ergs._ "I logged about a million meters on that damn rowing machine this summer. You still too fat to get into our boat, McCarty?"

At over six-five and pushing 275, Emmett was much too big for our boat, where the average height was six-three and the weight 200 pounds. He was the stroke in the varsity four, a coxed boat of guys all similar in height and build. It might have been hitting below the belt a bit - I knew he'd give his right nut to be in the first boat - but Emmett was pretty thick skinned. Jasper sidled up to us and slapped Emmett on his burly shoulder. The size difference between the two was comical.

"Fuck you, Cullen. I'm big-boned," he said sullenly. But his mood was derailed only for a moment and then the grin was back just as quickly. "Besides, Coach says he's looking into entering both a coxed eight _and_ a four this fall for **Head of the Charles**. So maybe I'll get to show up both you fairies after all. Are we partying tonight? Classes don't start for two days and damn it, I'm gonna take advantage."

We made plans to go The Fish Co. that night in Providence - a totally shitty bar but the college girls were plentiful - and all three of us got our shoes and water bottles and headed upstairs to the weight room. Carlisle's routine consisted of a two-mile run first thing at 3:45 a.m., followed by morning practice, and then one hour in the weight room. Once classes started, we were expected to keep that schedule and add another evening weight training session, either on the ergs or lifting. It was beyond rigorous to everyone else, but to us it was necessary for keeping our forms. The ladies team had the same schedule. There was no gender bias in this sport. On our way up the stairs, a small blur of blue and brown rushed past me before heading out the door.

"Hey guys, who was that?" I asked my friends. Jasper looked out the window at the retreating form. All I could see was long, dark hair, blue shorts and thin white legs. "I haven't seen her before."

"I think that was the new coxswain," Jasper offered. "Alice told me she'd convinced her friend to try out for the open cox position. Alice said she needs to get back to Emmett's boat for the season and Coach Esme can't spare a rower for either of the men's boats for any of the races."

"Well, what the fuck? I thought we were going to get Alice for this season," I grumbled. The idea of getting stuck with a brand new coxswain for my senior year did _not_ appeal at all. I groaned at the thought. "Can we really afford to train a newbie? Has she ever coxed before?" Jasper shrugged as we walked down the hall, past the coaches' offices and into the weight room. With my mind on the possibility of my final season getting shot to hell by a new, shitty cox, my **erg split times** were off and my form was horrendous.

"Ed, man, if Coach sees you looking like that on the erg, he'll pull your ass out of the boat so fast you'll get skidmarks," Emmett said from the bench press machine. _Fuck._ Reining in my paranoid thoughts, I refocused on my form and timing and blocked out everything else for the time being. The soothing whoosh of the erg's wheel grounded me as I surged forward and then pulled back with all of my strength. My legs burned with the anaerobic movement, as did my lungs, but it was a sensation I'd grown comfortable with. Once our workout was finished, we drove back to our apartment downtown for early lunch (pasta, tuna and salad with a side of protein shake), a little R&R and later, some pre-barhopping drinking.

"Hey, shitface, take it easy," I joked later that night as Emmett threw back his tenth shot. "If you can't walk yourself outta here, J and I sure as hell aren't carrying your big, fat ass." The Fish Co. was busy for a Thursday night, and it was early, so we'd all taken to drinking instead of watching for hot girls. We could all hold our liquor quite well, but Emmett's eyes were getting glassy and it wasn't even nine o'clock yet. "Pace yourself, man."

Emmett rolled his eyes at me and pounded on the bar to indicate he wanted another drink. The bartender eyed him warily but said nothing and slid another into his meaty hand. After downing the shot, Emmett said, "Pussies. I can handle my Jim Beam. Besides, there aren't any hot chicks here to keep me warm, so this'll do."

As if on cue, one of our teammates, Rosalie Hale, waltzed into the bar with a few of the other girls from her boat. Rose, Angela, Victoria and Jess were great to hang out with, but none of them appealed to me as more than friends. Rose was a tough bitch; Angela was really sweet and bookish, but was a tiger in the boat. Victoria and Jess were good rowers but were a bit petty and shallow. They all made damn decent drinking buddies, though.

Rose sauntered over to us and put her hand on Emmett's shoulder. I was amazed to see the change in his demeanor: from all talk and bravado to meek pussycat. He was definitely going to deal with a shitstorm of joking later. I'd see to it.

"Hey, boys," she cooed. "What's on tap tonight? Emmett, I hope you got one of those shots for me." Emmett stuttered and mumbled his way to obtaining another for Rosalie, which she promptly slammed back, without even so much as a blink. Then she ordered a round of beers for all of us and raised hers in a toast. "Here's to senior year and what is going to be a great season! I love you guys! Cheers!" Glass clinked against glass, followed by silence as we all chugged our brews. Emmett's eyes were all over Rose as she chatted with her friends and me and Jasper. _This dude is seriously whipped. Does she even know it?_

"Where's Alice tonight?" I asked Jasper as I signaled for another round. "I figured she'd want to start the season out right and come out with us." Jasper laughed and nodded, telling us his girlfriend would be arriving later. Alice, apparently, had gotten held up speaking with Coach Esme earlier in the day and was spending time with her roommate and _our new coxswain_. Again, I shuddered at the idea.

"Fuck, man, I hope she doesn't suck. We don't need another Jane this year. Too much is at stake," I grumbled. Jane, our cox for the last two seasons, had been sweet and pretty, but the poor thing was horrible at steering the boat and multi-tasking, and the university's **Vespoli** supply had been diminished because of it. Neither the coaches nor the benefactors of our sport appreciated their $20,000 pride and joy being dinged and damaged. Those things cost a bundle to repair. Because we had been down one coxswain, Alice had been run ragged doing double coxing for both our eight and the men's four. It also meant that only the eight could compete in **regattas**.

Jasper laid a hand on my shoulder and attempted to assuage my worries. "Relax, man. Ali wouldn't have suggested her friend if the girl didn't have at least _some _of the qualifications," he said. "Trust my girl. She has a sixth sense about these things. And you know she'd never want to be responsible for saddling the Brown men's eight with a bad cox. Okay?" His words added a thin blanket of comfort and I nodded. There wasn't much I could do about it at this point, anyways. About an hour later, Alice walked in - alone - wrapped her arms around her boyfriend's neck and kissed him before saying hello to the rest of us. I was admittedly a bit curious about the girl, but the thought was fleeting.

"Hey guys!" she said, getting herself a beer. "What did I miss?" Jasper reiterated my concerns while Emmett made goo-goo eyes at Rose. The other girls talked amongst themselves, probably about their erg test times. _Eat. Sleep. Row._

"Aww, Eddie, don't worry about your new cox, okay?" she cooed. "Bella's great and you guys will all love her. She's smart and a quick study. After talking with Coach today, I set her up with all of the reading materials she'll ever need and also spent some time with her in the tank after practice. Just so Bella can get a feel for what you guys do. It'll be fantastic!" The **tank** was a place where freshmen practiced in their initial days of rowing. It was an indoor tank filled with water with a simulated boat set up and suspended, fixed in the water. It allowed new rowers to get the feel of the action of rowing, without the dangers of being on the open water in a real shell. We had all paid our dues there first. Even Alice.

"Alice, if you're wrong about her, we're throwing you into the Seekonk," I declared. "You'll be picking debris and trash out of your hair for a week." Alice shuddered and slapped me on the arm - hard.

"Cullen, if I'm wrong, I'll _jump_ into the damn river, okay?" she said with a smirk. With my threat now idle, I shrugged and shook her hand on it. As the stroke, it was vital that I develop a good relationship and synchronicity with the coxswain. Alice and I had built up a sort of unspoken communication; it often felt like we could read each other's minds. This new girl, Bella, and I would require the same connection.

With our bet officially struck, I turned my attention to Angela, Jess and Victoria. "So guys, how're things shaping up for you? I mean, I know it was only the first day, but any good freshman prospects, or will your boat be exactly the same?" I asked. "I didn't hear a whole lot of yelling from Coach Esme, so am I right in assuming practice went well?" The girls all nodded in agreement and Victoria told me that while there were a few freshmen who seemed to be naturals, it was still much too early to know. And all four doubted that Esme would break up their eight unless there was a prodigy among the newbies.

"So, for now we remain intact," said Angela. "Unless we start sucking this season, Coach has no reason to rock the boat." She snickered at her pun as the others giggled. "And thankfully Bree's back, so we're already in much better shape than you guys!" Jess and Victoria made a point of nudging me and Jasper as Rose nodded smugly in agreement. Their coxswain was good and had been with them since freshman year. Clearly the women's boat had an advantage over us.

"Oh, I sense a bet comin' on," Jasper drawled with a sly grin. "You girls feel like making it interesting?" Rose and the others bent their heads together and after a few moments of hushed whispers, stifled giggles and wayward glances, Rose straightened up and thrust her chin out.

"Okay, so the terms are: Head of the Charles. Men's varsity eight versus women's varsity eight," she said, looking to Emmett who was visibly upset that he wasn't included. "Sorry, Emmett, but it's just easier this way. So if we win or place better than you guys, you'll all be practicing the next day _in the nude_." I nearly spit out my beer. Cocks and balls slapping against legs and slides and…_Ugh._ "And if you win -"

"You guys have to clean our apartments for a month!" Emmett yelled. "I mean, their apartments." We all knew how disgustingly most of the guys lived. It was a fair trade. Jasper and I considered the terms, and spurned on by an incentive _not_ to lose at the Head of the Charles, I reached out my hand for Rosalie to shake.

"Deal, Rose. Hope you guys have strong stomachs," I told the girls, who simply looked at me with pity.

"Man, maybe we should offer the guys some ice packs and powder after their naked practice," Victoria said with a snicker. "That's _gonna_ hurt." The girls laughed as Jasper, Emmett and I imagined the squishing, smacking and chaffing of our packages. Clearly, this was not an option for us.

"Not. Gonna. Happen," I declared.

_A/N: So, what do you think of Strokeward? I'm already in love. *sigh* Please leave me some love for this fun fic! No reviews is like catching a crab – ouch! Also, follow Strokeward on Twitter!_

**Glossary of Terms:**

**Crab** - _An unfortunate incident when the blade gets caught in the water and the handle of the oar hits the midsection of the rower; can result in getting tossed out of the boat. It is caused by the blade not entering into the water fully square, when pressure is applied to the blade it will just go deeper and deeper in the water._

**Coxswain** – _Person who steers the shell and is the on-the-water coach for the crew. _

**Stroke rate** – _The rate at which all rowers move together, measured by minute._

**Catch, Drive, Feather and Recovery** – _See below.*_

**Rushing the slide** - _Bad technique that causes stern check, or rapid deceleration, which comes from coming toward the catch from the recovery too fast. _

**Power Ten** - _A call for rowers to do 10 of their best, most powerful strokes. It's a strategy used to pull ahead of a competitor._

**Foot stretchers (stretchers)** - _Where the rower's feet go. The stretcher consists of two inclined footrests that hold the rower's shoes. The rower's shoes are bolted into the footrests._

**Cox box** – _A microphone system that amplifies the coxswain's voice so it's heard throughout the boat. May also have a digital display which tells the coxswain information such as stroke rate, stroke count and time elapsed._

**Shell** – _Racing boats, __long, narrow, and broadly semi-circular in cross-section in order to reduce drag to a minimum. They usually have a fin toward the rear, to help prevent roll and going off-course and to increase the effectiveness of the rudder._

**Head of the Charles** – _The largest rowing event in the world, it is a head race held in October on the Charles River in Boston, Mass. __Head races are time trial races; boats begin with a rolling start at 10-20 second intervals and are timed over a set distance. Head races vary in length from 2,000 – 12,000 meters._

**Ergs/split times** – _Ergometer or "erg" - A rowing machine that closely approximates the actual rowing motion. The rowers' choice is the Concept II, which utilizes a flywheel and a digital readout so that the rower can measure "strokes per minute" and the distance covered. Split time refers to the __average time it takes to complete 500 m (i.e. the 2000 m time divided by 4)._

**Vespoli** – _A brand of racing shell._

**Regatta** – _All races. Those held in the spring and summer and feature side-by-side racing are called regattas; all the boats start at the same time from a stationary position and the winner is the boat that crosses the finish line first._

**Tank** – _An indoor stationary boat immersed in water that many schools use to train new rowers before they are put in real boats. It simulates the action of rowing on the water, but is completely stable._

*The anatomy of a stroke: The two fundamental reference points in the rowing stroke are the **catch**, immediately prior to the oar blade's placement in the water, and the extraction (also known as the **finish** or the release) where the rower removes the oar blade from the water. From the catch, the rower places the blade in the water, then applies pressure to the oar by simultaneously pushing the seat toward the bow of the boat by extending the legs – the **drive**. As the legs approach full extension, the rower rotates his or her torso toward the bow of the boat and then finally pulls the arms towards his or her chest. The shoulders should not hunch up at any point during the drive. At the very end of the stroke, with the blade still in the water, the hands drop slightly to unload the oar so that spring energy stored in the bend of the oar gets transferred to the boat, which eases removing the oar from the water and minimizes energy wasted on lifting water above the surface (splashing).

The **recovery** phase follows the drive. It involves removing the oar from the water, and coordinating the body movement to move the oar to the **catch**. The coordinated body motion that begins at the finish consists of the following: the rower pushes down on the oar handle (or oar handles if the rower is sculling) to quickly lift the blade from the water at the release. Following the release, the rower rapidly rotates the oar to cause the blade of the oar to become parallel to the water (a process referred to as "**feathering** the blade") at the same time as pushing the oar handle away from the chest. After feathering and extending the arms, the rower rotates his or her body forward. Once the hands are past the knees, the rower compresses the legs, which moves the seat toward the stern of the boat. The leg compression occurs relatively slowly (compared with the rest of the stroke) which affords the rower a moment to "recover" (hence the term), and allows the boat to glide through the water. Near the end of the recovery, the rower squares the blade (rotates the blade to perpendicular to the water), and then repeats the stroke again, beginning with the catch.


	2. Chapter 2: New girl

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic. And thanks as always to Barbi, Megsly, Forever_Liz, Hez and SusanAshlea for letting me send them my rough drafts to get their skittles in return. _

_Welcome all! So glad you've decided to join the Strokeward Team!_

_I haven't decided yet if this whole fic will be from EPOV, but until further notice, consider this his story. _

**Glossary of Terms:**

**Launch – ****_A small motorboat used by the coach to follow alongside the shell._**

**Hands on**** – ****_A command to grasp the boat by the gunnels in preparation to move it._**

**Oarlocks**** – ****_The U-shaped metal piece at the end of the rigger that holds the oar in place._**

**Rigger – **_The triangular shaped metal device that is bolted onto the side of the boat and holds the oars._

**Paddle** – _To row lightly._

**Check it down** – _A command calling for rowers to drag their oar blades through the water perpendicularly. The blades are squared and partly buried in the water, effectively stopping the boat. _

**Stern pair** – _The two rowers at the bow (bow seat and two seat)._

**Weigh enough** – _Command for rowers to stop, usually given with a 2-stroke warning. Rowers know that in one (said at the catch), rowers complete one full stroke; and in two (said at the second catch), rowers complete this second full stroke and end at arms away, blades squared, boat balanced._

**Skying the blade** - _Coming to the catch with the blade too high above the surface of the water (kind of like whiffing in baseball)._

**Washing out/washout** - _When an oar blade comes out of the water during drive and creates surface wash that causes the shell to lose power and become unsteady._

**Even it out** – _A command that tells the rowers to pull with even pressure on both sides._

**Down on port/starboard** – _Means that the boat is leaning to one side or the other. Rowers on the side that is down must raise their hands, and the other side must lower their hands._

**Chapter 2**: New girl

The alarm went off like a bullhorn next to my ear, and reflexively I slapped it off as I rolled out of bed. The wood floor was cold under my feet as I stumbled into my shorts, t-shirt and shoes. The only light shone from a streetlight outside my window. My alarm clock read 3:15 a.m. I shuffled down the hall and banged on the doors of my housemates, Emmett and Jasper.

"Rise and shine, ladies!" I yelled against their doors. "Asses-in-seats in five or I'm leaving without you." Thankfully the boathouse was only a ten-minute drive from our house. There was no way in hell I was willing to get up any earlier to make the trip. We climbed into my old beat up Volvo and the engine roared to life in the stillness.

"Man, what a weekend," Emmett said with a yawn from the backseat. "I think I'm still drunk. That Rosalie is one sexy hell of a woman. She…"

"She's got you beggin' like a dog for a bone," Jasper finished with a smirk. We'd had a party Saturday night - and had invited the rest of the crew team over, of course - and Emmett was still on Cloud Nine, apparently. Completely smitten.

"Shut up, Jackoff," Emmett spat, and I stifled a laugh. "Anyways, I think she likes me. We're going out Thursday night."

Jasper and I "ooohed" in unison and then burst into loud fits of laughter. Emmett sulked for the rest of the drive, after arguing that neither one of us could handle that much woman. We parked along the riverbank and jogged up to the boathouse, where the rest of the guys were stretching and talking and watching the women bring their oars down to the docks. Coach Esme was loading up her equipment into the **launch** and Bree was shouting out orders to the girls to put **hands on**, once the eight oars were secured in their **oarlocks**. Before Emmett could get more than a wave in to Rose, Coach Carlisle had us out for our morning run. Upon our return, I saw that Coach was standing by the launch with Alice and the brunette - _Bella_.

"Guys, we're gonna try something new today," he began. "Alice, you'll cox the guys for a while. Emmett, Felix, Garrett and Jake, you'll be riding in the launch with me and Bella. We'll switch you guys out throughout the practice so that you all get in some rowing time and I can get Bella acquainted with you all. Let's get hands on, please." All twelve of us went into the boathouse and took out the eight, with Alice calling commands to help us navigate the long shell out and down the ramp to the dock. Bella stood quietly by Coach, seemingly taking it all in.

Once we set the boat gently on the water, and six of the guys went to get the oars, I turned from my crouched position - holding the boat against the dock with my hands on the **riggers** - and took a moment to observe the new girl. She was short and tiny, kind of built like Alice, which was definitely a prerequisite for being a coxswain. She wore a ratty Forks Athletic Dept. t-shirt that looked a few sizes too small, which conveniently showcased her small but perky rack. Her long brown hair was piled atop her head in a messy bun. She was clearly uncomfortable and nervous.

"All hands, ready and in," Alice called, and the eight of us got into the boat and laced up our foot stretchers. I screwed the gate at the top of the oarlock closed, locking my oar in place. "Count off when ready." One by one the guys called out their seat number when they were ready and Alice instructed use to push off the dock and **paddle** out into the river. Carlisle, the four guys, and Bella trailed alongside us as Alice got us warmed up with some easy exercises.

"Let's have bow pair row," she said. The other six of us relaxed our oars on the water's surface as Jasper and Tyler rowed. After a few minutes she added seats three and four, then five and six and then Mike in seven and me. "Okay, let's row on, guys," Alice commanded, instructing us to continue rowing at my pace until told to stop. The pace was steady but easy - Alice wanted us at half-power - so I took the opportunity to get a little info on the new girl.

"So…Alice…what's Bella's story?" I asked between strokes. Alice pulled the headset away from her face so that the rest of the guys didn't overhear and crouched down a bit more in her seat.

"Well, she's a sophomore and she's from Washington, like me," she said quickly. "Only child, her dad's the police chief in Forks. We've been friends since high school. She's shy but smart. Really nice. I think her curiosity finally got the best of her. All last year she'd ask me about crew, but never voiced any interest. Seems that's changed."

"How'd she do in the tanks, Alice?"

"Okay, but I think she'll be much more useful as a cox, Edward," Alice answered with what I could have sworn was a grimace. "Edward, you're at a 24 right now." I subtly increased my stroke rate to get it back to 26.

"You sure she's cut out for this?" I asked, still not convinced. Alice rolled her eyes at me before responding.

"Edward, freaking relax," she chastised. "Remember that we've all been there, so be patient and get to know her. I promise…you're going to love her."

"Yeah, sure, Ali," I quipped.

She abruptly pulled the mic back to her mouth. "**Check it down**, boys!" She glared at me for a moment and I gulped. _Shit. Pissing off the cox - very bad idea._

"Okay, **stern pair**, I want three power tens from you at a stroke rate of 28. Ready all, _row_!" Alice's brow knit with determination as she stared me down. Mike grumbled his discontent behind me and if I could've, I would've apologized. The other six guys in the boat just sat there, letting their oars skip along the water, which at least kept the boat set up. In no time I was sweating like a pig and grunting like one, too. Mike and I pulled the entire weight of the boat, including its other occupants, for almost a mile, rowing at a frantic pace. My lungs felt like they might disintegrate within my heaving chest.

"In two,** weigh enough**," she finally called. Mike and I slumped over, exhausted from the strain of enduring three power tens by ourselves. Alice sat there, gloating.

"Alice, I'm going to have you and Bella switch out now," Coach Carlisle called from the launch as he approached us. I glanced over at Bella as Alice disconnected herself from the cox box. Switching out rowers or coxswains while underway always presented a challenge. It was a bit like walking on a tight rope. In addition, none of us wanted to go for an impromptu swim, only to have to climb back into the boat. Alice gracefully stepped into the launch first and then held the deck of our shell as Bella attempted to get her bearings.

"Bella, just step down and in quickly," Alice suggested. "Almost like you're sliding in. Don't worry about kicking Edward. He's tough." She looked at me and smirked. I narrowed my eyes back at her. Bella bit her lip and threw a leg over, her toes searching for purchase. With a sigh, I guided her foot into the space for her in the stern.

"Thanks," she said quietly, her face blushing a bright scarlet as my fingers closed around her ankle. Bella slid into the coxswain's seat with surprising skill and put the headset on as everyone else got settled. Bella extended her hand to me with a smile. "I don't think we've had the pleasure. Bella Swan."

"Edward Cullen," I replied, shaking her hand, which was completely engulfed by mine. "Nice to meet you." _Show me what you got, little girl._

"Bella, I'm going to let you take them downriver a bit and then I'll sub in Jake, Felix and the others," Coach told her. "I'll let you know when. Just take them and I'll follow."

"Okay, thanks," she yelled, forgetting about the microphone. The speakers - set at the feet of each rower - crackled and whined. Bella cringed and her hand flew up to cover her mouth, knocking into the headset.

_Strike one, Bella._

"Sorry, guys," she said softly. "Okay, um…bow pair, please start us off. Ready all, row."

The boat jerked backward slowly and we were underway. After a few strokes, Bella added the next pair and worked her way up to me and Mike, until we were all rowing. It was a torturously slow pace, and since Bella hadn't told us how hard to row, I just stuck to the cadence set by Jasper and Tyler - which, quite frankly, was a bit choppy and distracting. She needed to learn what to say on her own. We rowed in complete silence. Bella seemed at a loss as to how to correct us as we went. The boat was sloppy and needed to be set up, but I wasn't going to tell her. Almost on-cue, the boat jerked unnaturally and we immediately slowed down. Someone behind me must have caught a decent crab.

_Strike two._

"Oh - Eric, you okay?" Bella asked, her face frantic with worry. "Um, weigh enough." We came to a stop and I turned to see Eric completely prone and in Tyler's lap. His oar was low and pressing against his chest, the inertia of the boat preventing him from remedying the problem. _A damn good crab, to be exact._ Once he'd righted himself, Bella called for a countdown when we were ready. After I called "stroke," she pulled the mic away from her face and leaned closer to me.

"Edward, I know I'm missing some things here, so please feel free to give me some pointers, okay?" she beseeched me. "I know no boat should ever be silent, but I'm trying to absorb it and there's so much to remember."

Of course, I couldn't be a _complete_ dickhead to her, so I nodded in agreement and told her I'd make suggestions as we went. Then she asked me how to get us going again. Shaking my head in disdain, I replied, "_Ready all, row_."

_And strike three._

"Right! Of course," she whispered. She gave the command and we all began rowing again. It was the hardest way to start - from a full stop - and it required for the boat to be set up or level, which was difficult with eight oars poised above the water's surface. But being experienced rowers with an inexperienced cox, we managed. When the balance felt off, I suggested she have us set up the boat. If our pace was too slow, I asked her to read the digital display and give me the stroke rate. When the splashing grew rather obnoxious -because of messy catches and **washout** - I tried to gently suggest commands or hints that would lead her to catch on. She was definitely unsure of herself, but I did what I could to compensate.

"Um, five seat, you're missing…um, whiffing," Bella said. "No, sorry. I mean you're…"

_Strike four. Should I even be counting this high?_

I whispered the appropriate term to her as a cue and she finished her sentence, "…**skying** the blade. Let's set the boat up, guys. Watch the starboard side." She seemed proud of herself and smiled at me in thanks for the hint. At different points that morning, Coach subbed in Felix, Garrett, Jake and Emmett (who took Mike's place and wasted no time in tormenting me from his seat).

"Emmett, cut the shit, man, or I swear I will beat you senseless with my oar," I threatened over my shoulder. In response, the dickhead continued to hit my back with his knees whenever he could, would exaggerate his drive, poking me with the handle of his oar, or splash me by washing out. Of course, Bella was too oblivious to notice how his antics affected the rest of the boat.

"Bella, do you feel the boat? We've lost our swing," I informed her. "_Can you fix it_?" I wanted to see how she'd assess the situation. _Call me an asshole, but I want to see how she handles it._ Her brows knit in determination and concentration as she deliberated what to do to correct the problems that were obvious to me. I think I counted 15 strokes until she actually opened her mouth.

_Strike._

"Guys, even it out, please," Bella commanded, asking for equal pressure from all eight of us. "Starboard side, hands up. Ugh, check it back - I mean down. **Check it down.** _Shit_." The eight of us snickered as we brought the boat to an immediate stop on her command (once she got the command right, that was).

_Strike…whatever. I've lost count. She's definitely out._

Coach called for us to bring it into the dock, so Bella set us off at full power with all eight rowing back up the river. With our backs to the docks and boathouse, at this moment, every cox at some point must prove his or her meddle by safely navigating the crew in and against the dock. It was a delicate and scary-as-shit thing, and I'd certainly never want to be a coxswain, especially in this capacity. There was always so much to focus on at once: the eight of us, how we're rowing (how fast, how hard, our form, the direction and setup of the boat), the direction we're traveling in, river conditions (in the Seekonk one must always be wary of debris and crazed boaters), environmental conditions, the coach, and during races, other boats. And since Bella was a new coxswain, I knew she'd be extra nervous.

"Okay, Bella, just keep in mind that we need to come into the dock just right," I said, trying to assist. She looked panicked. "I mean, we don't want to stop too soon and not reach the dock but if we overshoot we'll have to turn upriver." The expression on her face showed clearly that I was _not_ helping in the least, so I added, "It will be fine."

_Please let it be fine._

Last year when Jane crashed the Vespoli – Coach's best boat and aptly named Apollo – the injury to the shell had taken all season to repair. Luckily, we'd gotten in back in time for the spring regattas, but Carlisle was beside himself to have us racing in the Head of the Charles in one of the older boats. The rigging and other equipment was slightly different than the newer shell we were used to, and it had thrown us off our game.

I still remembered the crunching sound it made when she rammed us into an old pile that was sticking out of the water near the boathouse. Of course, it shouldn't have been there, but neither should we. Jane, as the cox, should have seen the obstruction and directed us away from it. Luckily, no one was hurt - well, except for poor Apollo and Jane's pride, of course - and we were able to limp back to the dock without sinking.

"Bow pair out," I heard Bella shout, and the boat slowed infinitesimally as Jasper and Tyler stilled their oars. "Um, three and four out, please," she added quickly thereafter, and I realized within a split second that we were coming in too hot. But before I could interject and attempt to correct her, I heard it: the sickening scrape that I knew all too well.

"Port side, oars up!" Bella yelled, and we quickly complied as we attempted to soften the blow of our hard landing against the dock. I slid my oar out of the oarlock so I could use the blade to push us away from the float, and a few others on my side followed my lead. Bella grasped the end of the wooden slats to keep us still and to halt our progress beyond it and as we stopped I glanced at Coach to see him horrified, still sitting in the launch. Alice's face mirrored his, as did those of Mike and the other guys from our boat.

_Fuck. Strike one million, Bella. Fuck!_

Of course, Bella immediately jumped out of the boat to inspect the damage. She was strangely silent while running her fingers over the stern of the shell and I could only take it to mean that the prognosis was grim. Inwardly I swore a few more times and cursed the fact that none of us could get out to see the damage until our fucking coxswain commanded it. I cleared my throat obnoxiously to get her attention.

"Oh, right. Count down when ready," she said meekly. After counting, Bella ordered us up and out and for four of us to carry the oars into the boathouse. With my hands on the rigging along with the three others, all I could do was read the faces of Alice, Coach and Bella as they crouched at the stern, obstructing the damage from view. Bella looked as though she might be sick, though she had remained silent until now.

"Bella, Jesus, what happened?" Coach wanted to know. I watched as Alice patted Bella's shoulder in reassurance, but I felt certain it wouldn't do much good. Carlisle, to his credit, was attempting to remain calm, though I'm sure all he saw was another fall racing season slipping through his fingers at the hands of an inexperienced coxswain.

"Coach, I-I'm so sorry," Bella stammered, gnawing her bottom lip as soon as she paused. "I misjudged the distance and was afraid to come up short...the current wasn't as strong as I expected, so they were faster…" Her voice trailed off into nothingness and part of me couldn't help but feel empathy. But the other, more dominant part of me wanted to ring her little neck for damaging the boat. Carlisle ran his fingers along the shell. I held my breath.

"Well, it looks like just a scrape, thank goodness," he said with relief. "It should buff out, but the integrity of the shell is intact." By this time the rest of the guys from our boat were standing around, as well as the guys who had been in the launch. Coach assured us all that Apollo was indeed fine, though I noticed Bella didn't look relieved at all. _Serves her fucking right to be scared. She was going to have an angry mob of gangly guys after her, all with an average five-foot-long reach and perfectly capable of chasing her for miles without getting winded. Be afraid, little girl. Be very afraid._

After she managed to walk us and the shell into the boathouse without further incident, Bella slipped away quickly. Fortunately for her, I'd expected as much, so I grabbed my stuff and ran after her. As the unofficial team captain - if rowing had such a thing - I took it upon myself to keep the team together and to address any personnel problems. And Bella was _definitely_ one of those. I rounded the corner at the entrance and saw her jogging toward an ancient red Chevy.

"Hey! Bella!" I yelled, breaking into a full sprint in order to overtake her. Just before she reached the door handle I pushed myself in between her and the pickup. _Though I can't imagine anyone making a stealthy or speedy getaway in this hunk of junk. _"Wait, damn it."

"Look, Edward, I said I was sorry," she began, the grief twisting her features. "I didn't mean to -"

"I know you didn't _mean to_, Bella," I said, cutting her off. "But that boat cost the university more than $20,000 in ass kissing and handshaking and I don't think the guy who paid for it would appreciate your careless disregard for his baby. You know that Apollo was the name of his damn poodle? He'd have Carlisle's dick on a skewer if we hurt his precious. I seriously suggest you get your shit together, and soon, or you need to look for a new hobby."

She gaped at me through my tirade and when I finally took a breath, Bella swallowed hard. Honestly, I couldn't have made it up if I tried; often the truth was much more entertaining. But then her expression hardened and she stepped toward me, effectively pinning _me_ against her truck.

"What else do you want me to say, Edward? Frankly, I don't give a rat's ass about the rich asshole who named the boat after his dog," she seethed, poking a hard little fingernail into my chest. "What I do care about is the team, Coach, the eight guys who depend on me not to fuck up and the races we have coming up in less than two months.

"Every night I have nightmares about letting you all down, and today it fucking happened," she continued as I struggled not to grimace. The little girl had moxsie; I'd give her that. "You have no idea what this means to me. So let's just agree to be civil and get through this adjustment period. All you need to know is that I'm giving 120 percent. Just give me at least that much in return, okay?"

Bella, despite being tiny, pushed me hard and I stumbled away from the door far enough so that she could open it. She quickly jumped up into the bucket seat and the old engine coughed and turned over. I stood there gaping like an imbecile as she peeled out and disappeared in a cloud of exhaust fumes.

"Well, fuck me," I said aloud, stunned by our exchange. What I expected to be me reprimanding Bella had turned into a tongue-lashing from her. Obviously, I wasn't being clear enough.

"Hey, shit for brains, what exactly is your problem?" I spun around and came face to top-of-head with Alice. _Shit. Not a good morning._ "Am I going to have to kick your ass again? Do not - I repeat, do _not _- bully Bella into quitting. You know you need her. I don't get why you're being a little catty bitch to her, but you need to get over it."

"Ali -"

"No, don't Ali me, assface," she said. "Knock it off. You two need to work _together_, not against each other. Show her the ropes. Make nice."

_Make nice. How?_

"How?"

"I don't know," Alice said with a roll of her eyes. "Why don't you put some of the energy you expend on panty-melting toward trying to be genuine and see what happens? Who knows? Maybe you two will actually find out you have more in common than a boat and eight oars."

When I didn't respond, Alice headed off toward the boathouse, most likely to get in her morning workout before class. Suddenly, I had an epiphany of sorts. Maybe I should apologize and extend the proverbial olive branch. But how…? I ran after Alice and followed her into the boathouse. With more than two hours until my first class, I had plenty of time to spare to work this out in my head.

"Alice!" I said, and she turned around on her way upstairs to the weight room. "I've got an idea, I think. But I need your help."

"I'm listening," she answered as she walked over to an erg and sat down.

"What time is Bella's first class and where is it?" I asked, sitting down on the erg next to her. Alice put her feet in the foot stretchers and turned on the display. "I'd like to make it up to her."

"Saddle up, Eddie, and if you beat my time, I'll tell you," she replied.

After whooping Alice's ass on the erg, I had the name of Bella's first class, the building and room number in my hand. As luck would have it, we had class in the same building. With Operation Make Nice in effect, I sped off to campus whistling my favorite Def Leopard song.

_A/N: So, what do you think of Strokeward? Any guesses as to the song? Please leave me some love for this fun fic! No love is like crashing a really expensive boat! Also, follow Strokeward on Twitter!_


	3. Chapter 3: Common ground

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic. And thanks as always to Barbi, Megsly, Forever_Liz, Hez and SusanAshlea for letting me send them my rough drafts to get their skittles in return. _

_Welcome all! So glad you've decided to join the Strokeward Team!_

_Let's see if Strokeward and Bella can play nice. For those of you who know me… ;)_

**Chapter 3**: Common ground

With nine minutes to spare before the beginning of my corporate politics class, I ran through the halls, dodging in and out of doorways looking for Bella. Alice had told me she was in some Victorian Lit class, so I had my eyes peeled for a bunch of bookworm-types hanging out together, speaking in old English and sipping tea. _Or something like that. _

_Shit. Five minutes! _Running out of doors and time, I ran past another door and then skidded to a stop as a head of long, brown hair caught my eye. Peeking around the heavy wooden door molding, I spied Bella sitting by herself, seemingly engrossed in a book. Grabbing a piece of paper out of my binder, I hurriedly scribbled down my makeshift treaty before trying to get her attention.

"Psst! Psst! Bella!" I yell-whispered. After a few more "pssts" she jerked her head up and when she realized it was me, scowled. I motioned frantically for her to come over and when she finally did, she made it clear it was against her will.

"What?" Bella said in a strained but harsh whisper, even though we were out in the hallway. "I have class in…" she checked her watch before adding, "…three minutes, Edward."

"I know, I know. I do, too. But here," I said in a rush, thrusting the piece of paper at her. She furrowed her brows in confusion as she looked at it and then looked at me. Shaking her head, she pushed the paper against my chest with enough force that I took a step back.

"I don't get it. What the hell is that?" she asked with obvious ire. "Edward, I don't have time for Pictionary." Bella crossed her arms as I shook my head at her, laughing.

"No, silly, it's an olive branch," I explained, pointing to my drawing. "A peace offering of sorts. Get it?" _Come on, little girl. I know you're a smart cookie. Please don't make me beg. _Her expression was static and her body language unyielding, so I added, "I wanted to apologize for being a prick this morning. It's just that this is my last year, and I really want us to do well. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Bella stood there, staring at me for what seemed like eons, and silently I wondered if I was going to be late to class because of her apology-induced coma. _"Sorry, Professor Banner, but I apologized to this girl and then she went catatonic on me and I had to give her CPR. It was the weirdest thing." _Then, infinitesimally, her features softened and a bit of a smile tugged up one corner of her mouth.

"That has to be one of the cheesiest apologies every crafted," she said with a smirk. "But original and, I must admit, entirely adorable." She gently pried my fingers away from the paper held against my chest, extracting my drawing. "I accept your apology…and this. Thank you, Edward."

Her professor walked by us and cleared her throat, silently telling us to wrap it up. Across the hall, I knew Banner would be prompt with beginning his discussion, so I knew I needed to make my pitch quickly. As Bella turned toward her class, I grabbed her wrist.

"Wait - one more offering," I said, my fingers still wrapped around her. "Since you and I need to work closely - form a cox/stroke bond, if you wanna call it that – I was wondering if you'd want to work out together. Once a week, or whatever. Maybe at some point we can erg and even get out on the water. What do you say?"

Bella smiled and turned from me, only pausing before she closed the classroom door.

"My last class ends at two this afternoon," she said. "Meet me at the boathouse at 2:30?" I nodded and she shut the door, leaving me in the deserted hallway. Regaining my faculties, I crossed the hall to my own class in two strides and walked inside.

"Thank you for joining us, Mr. Cullen," Banner said sarcastically. I nodded with a smirk but then quickly sat down. _No need to poke the bear._ And I had somewhere to be at 2:30 and couldn't afford being made to serve as Banner's errand boy. _I learned my lesson the one time I pissed him off. _Sliding down in my seat as his voice droned in the background, I smiled to myself with the success of my mission.

_Operation Make Nice, phase one successful. Cullen, you _are_ a dork._

Classes dragged ass all day long, and I found myself watching the clock often, eager to get down to the boathouse. But then again, I always looked forward to my workouts. Occasionally I'd even take a scull out on the river, just to connect with the water and my rhythm. No waiting for seven other guys to get their shit together; no one telling me how fast or how hard to row. Just me, a small, lightweight shell, two hatchet blades, and the river.

But since today I'd have Bella with me, I decided to take things slowly. Maybe show her how to use the exercise equipment and the ergs. _This is going to be a good thing - I think. _The bottom line was that regardless of any potential personality differences or her lack of experience, we needed to essentially become one person in that boat. And to me, that boat was the center of my world right now. Bella - whether I liked it or not - was my ticket to a spot on the Olympic team. That was, if I had a shot at all.

My Volvo practically drove itself to the boathouse automatically; I'd packed gym clothes in my trunk and grabbed them before sprinting into the building. The rusticle of a red truck was parked in front of the door, so I knew Bella was already there. Taking the stairs two at a time, I called her name as I got to the second floor.

"In here," she answered. I followed her voice and found her standing in the middle of the weight room, a befuddled expression on her heart-shaped face. Her eyes poured over the myriad machines in the room while her teeth gnawed on her bottom lip. She looked completely out of her element.

"Hi," I said, breaking her exercise machine-induced stupor. Bella's eyes found mine in a flash and her face turned beet red.

"Hi. Yeah, so in case it wasn't painfully obvious before, I'm going to be honest and say that I have no idea how to work 99 percent of these machines," she said, tugging on a lock of her hair, which was gathered in a messy ponytail. "Should we start with these?" 

"Sure. Let me change quickly and I'll be right with you," I said, leaving her to head into the men's locker room. "Why don't you find some good workout music? They're a bunch of CDs next to the stereo." When I returned, clad in mesh basketball shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, Bella was sliding the CD player shut and Linkin Park started playing. Personally, I preferred the classics - good, 80s rock - but for working out, angry was better, I found.

"Okay, Bella, let's start off with stretching, okay?" She nodded and then I showed her some stretches to do before and after each workout. Once we were limber, I told her we'd do our run next. "We'll just do a short one today - how does a one miler sound to you?"

Bella smirked at me, replying, "Only a mile, Cullen? Afraid you'll pass out? I'm good for at least two as a warm-up." Then she strode out of the weight room without me, heading downstairs. _Okay…she's testing me. _As it turned out, Bella was a decent runner. She kept pace with my long strides, despite being much shorter, and kept up a solid chatter throughout the length of our run.

"So, Edward, what made you try rowing? Got a thing for all that dirty talk?" she quipped as we ducked under some low branches.

"_What_?" I asked in disbelief - and gaping at her - just as another low branch smacked me in the face. Bella kept going as I bent at the waist, winded from the vegetative attack. Her laughter trailed behind her as I rubbed my sore cheek. As quickly as I could, I ran to catch up with her.

"Come again?" I said as I reached her, being careful to avoid additional aggressive shrubbery. "Dirty talk?"

"Yeah," she said simply, giving me that damn smirk again. "You know…rowing is a dirty sport. All of the lingo I've been reading up on. Stoke and cox, obviously, catching a crab. Some of the commands, too - like 'stroke' and 'pull harder' and stuff like that. And the noises you guys make…"

"Hmmm…I suppose," I said, watching her out of the corner of my eye. "But only a truly perverted fiend would take those things as sexual innuendos. Oh, and don't forget about tea-bagging." I could have sworn Bella stumbled at bit over that term and fought to hold in the laughter.

"T-tea-bagging? What's that?" she asked. "I haven't come-haven't encountered that one yet."

"Well, basically it's when one rower fakes it," I explained. "He or she pretends to pull hard and the whole bit, when he or she is just doing enough to make it look good. You can tell by the tiny to non-existent puddles the oar makes. If anyone catches you doing it…well, you'd be better off just not rowing. Or showing up the next day."

"Damn," Bella commented as we rounded a corner, the boathouse just coming into view. "But wait…"

"Yeah?"

She turned and grinned at me - a damn devious grin at that - and then sprinted ahead of me, toward our destination.

"That would make you a truly perverted fiend, then, wouldn't it?" she called, running backwards to face me. She spun around quickly and sped off. In the split second it took for my mind to process her declaration, Bella had gained substantial ground and space. But I wasn't going to go quietly, and I ran at full speed with her in my sight. I passed her easily, but then Bella was next to me again, and she gave me a hard shove.

"Hey!" I shouted, struggling to keep my footing. "Cheat!" Running so close to Bella that our arms were touching, I gently yanked on her ponytail and sprinted ahead of her. The smell of victory in the air, I didn't look back until I was right in front of the boathouse entrance. Bella chose that moment to pull on my t-shirt with what appeared to be the whole of her bodyweight. We managed to make it to the door at the same time, huffing and struggling to get inside and claim the victory as our own.

"You are a dirty runner," I breathed, righting my twisted shirt.

"I like to make it interesting," Bella replied, rearranging her mussed ponytail. She laughed as we ran up the stairs and headed toward the weight room again. Bella looked around the room quickly before settling on trying the incline press. She sat down, read the instructions on the side panel of the machine, and arranged her hands on the bars. Bella grunted - a rather unappealing sound coming from someone so small - and pushed the bars over her head to no avail. If I hadn't been fearful of her injuring herself, I would have enjoyed watching her struggle a bit more. It was hilarious.

"Bella, hang on, hang on," I said with a chuckle, bending over her lap to adjust the weight. With the pin set at a more appropriate 30 pounds, I nodded and explained how to raise the bar over her head without over-extending her elbows. "Back straight, shoulders relaxed. That's it." I counted out 10 reps for her and then told her to scoot off so I could take a turn. We each did three sets of 10 and then I suggested we work in a circuit fashion around the room.

It went this way with each machine: Bella would sit down, determined to figure it out on her own, and invariably I'd have to give her instructions and adjust the weights for her so that she could move the machine. Apparently she had no idea how much weight was too much. We would take turns and as I did my set, I'd give her pointers on form and breathing.

"Edward, I need help with this one for sure," Bella said, lying on the bench press. Practically snorting, I agreed and positioned myself behind her head, standing over her. I slid the 50-pound plates off the barbell and decided to start simple and determine Bella's strength. The bar alone weighed 25 pounds, so I placed my fingers lightly under it and stood directly over Bella's head, instructing her to lift it.

"Okay, now wrap your hands around the bar like that, shoulder width apart and exhale and push up," I said. She pushed out a breath so forceful as she lifted the bar, I felt it against my groin. _Motherfucker. No breathing on my dick, please._ I took my own steadying breath as Bella held the bar over her head. "Is that too heavy?"

"Umm, no. It's just awkward," she said with some effort. The bar wavered in her outstretched hands, so I used my fingers to steady it and her. "How much does this thing weigh? I don't even have any weights on it."

"It's about 25 pounds, which is quite respectable for someone just starting out," I said encouragingly when Bella grimaced. "If it's too much we can do a different exercise for your pecs."

She blinked a few times and tilted her head farther back so that she was looking right at me. "My pecs? We're working on my pecs?" She cleared her throat a few times and then brought the bar down to her chest and then back up with another forceful gust of breath. After a few awkward moments of silence and three more reps, I was sporting a woody and desperately needed a distraction. _A hard-on in mesh basketball shorts is _not _a good idea. Losing a race. Someone stealing my car. Dead puppies and shit…_

"Edward!" Bella's exasperated cry and the weight of the bar hitting my hands snapped me out of my stupor, and I reacted. Grabbing the bar from Bella, I lifted it to my chest and away from her. Her body flopped back down to the bench as her face turned crimson once more. _Man, this girl blushes an awful lot._

"Shit, Bella, you okay?" I asked. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and breathed heavily. "Sorry about that. I zoned out."

"My arms got tired," she said simply. I set the bar back on the stand over her head and walked around to face her, extending my hand. After wiping her hands on her shorts, Bella reached up for me and I grabbed her hands, pulling her upright. _Her hands are so tiny._ She exhaled forcefully once more. "I got tired on that last rep and my hands were sweaty. Shit, I need to work out more. That was pathetic."

"Nah, it's okay. You'll get better," I said, sitting beside her on the bench. "Not a big deal at all. Everyone has to start somewhere. And with me helping you, you'll be a gym rat in no time." I gave her a sideways grin in an effort to bolster her spirits.

"Oh, yeah, that's really consoling coming from a guy who looks like he lives here," she said, looking at the floor.

"What do you mean?" I asked, honestly curious. When I had joined the team freshman year, I was pretty scrawny. Lanky and awkward, I'd joined because I sucked at basketball and track and field. What else was there for a tall, thin guy to do athletically? Besides chess. Developing a strict diet and workout regimen had not only improved my physique and overall health, but rowing had done wonders for my coordination. _Which helped me in other aspects of life…_ But I was still tall and relatively thin, despite the muscle. I was no Emmett - that was for damn sure. Not a typical gym rat at all.

"Oh, come on, Edward," Bella said sarcastically. "Look at you. Big, buff and beaut -" She abruptly cut herself off and turned a new and brilliant shade of red. "All I'm saying is that you don't look like someone who's ever been where I am - weak, unschooled and inept." Bella took to studying her fingernails, so I nudged her gently to get her to look at me.

"Bella, trust me - I've been there," I said. "When I started crew, I was scrawny and all arms and legs. 'A mountain of mayhem and misfortune,' as Jackie Childs would say. But I worked hard - damn hard - and it paid off. So don't worry so much. You'll find your rhythm in this sport, and until then, I'll try to make sure the guys go easy on you, okay? Anyways, I'm still a gangly mess. I've just filled out a bit."

"Yeah…whatever you say," she answered. Bella smiled, though, and it lit her entire face from within. Eager to finish our workout, I stood up and gestured in the direction of the leg press machine. This time I showed Bella how to use it by going first, and she watched me intently. When it was her turn I slid the weight plates off the bars and let her try. She worked her way up to 80 pounds, very impressive for someone of her size and general lack of strength.

"I ran track in high school," she said abruptly by way of an explanation. "Didn't you wonder how it was that someone so uncoordinated could nearly outrun _you_? Never underestimate a woman's thighs, Edward. They're stronger than you think." Bella looked at her shoes and mumbled something incoherent as I pondered the truth of her statement. _Women _do_ have deceptively strong thighs. But they can't open pickle jars without help._

"Well, that explains so many things," I ruminated, smirking as I loaded the weight back onto the machine. We finished our sets and completed the circuit of machines. At that point, I was ready for one last blast of cardio to finish up that afternoon. But Bella shied away from the ergs, much to my dismay.

"Alice told me to stick with coxing," she said, looking a bit downtrodden. "Maybe I should listen to her and stay away from the ergs, too."

"Bullshit," I said. "Let me determine that. Have you tried one yet?" She nodded her head but said nothing. "Okay, then why don't we try just a leisurely pace and we'll do just 1,000 meters. Easy."

Bella agreed and sat on the erg next to mine while I programmed the distance on her display and adjusted the wheel on the machine. She strapped her feet into the footstetchers and released the wooden handle from its holder. I set my own erg up for the row and strapped my feet in.

"Okay, so you're all ready to go. Watch my form and try to row like me," I instructed. "Keep your posture as straight as possible – slouching will actually hurt your back – and try to keep an even pace, even if you're not pulling hard." Bella nodded and chewed on her bottom lip. "Ready? Go!"

The whir of the wheels on the ergs set to the angsty music of Linkin Park was oddly comforting; I supposed that I wasn't the only one who sought solace in the familiar. Quickly I established an easy rhythm for myself at a stroke rate of 25 and then looked over to see how Bella was faring. Her face was red, of course, and she was slouching a bit. Her rhythm wasn't quite even, but it was a skill most didn't possess naturally. But I noticed she was rushing her slide a bit.

"Bella, watch me, and see how I drive with my legs first and _then_ with my back and arms?" I asked, trying to demonstrate without losing my focus. I heard a frustrated sigh and another grunt as she took my suggestion to heart. We rowed a few more meters in silence - aside from the heavy breathing - and then I suggested she call a power ten to help us get through 100 more meters. Calling power tens made the monotonous rowing seem faster, I thought.

"Shit. Uh, okay," she said in between huffed breaths. "Power…ten…in…two. Ready and go!" Immediately my split time spiked and I increased my stroke rate to 31 as I powered through the first few strokes. But Bella was strangely silent.

"Bella, you have to help us through it! Call out some shit!" I said through gritted teeth.

"Right! Okay," she gasped. "Go! Pull. Stroke! Shit. Ah, fucker. Sorry!" At the f-word, I completely lost my focus and my power ten fizzled like a deflated balloon. Of course, that messed up my averages and ruined the whole piece. _Fuck it._ I dropped the handle and turned to her. Bella had abandoned rowing as well; she was still holding her handle but had her knees bent and was slumped over them.

"Bella, that was, by far, the _worst_ coxing from an erg in the history of mankind," I teased. "You need some serious help…and confidence." She finally looked at me and I couldn't help but relent with the teasing. Her face was visibly pained and I realized that I was being a douchebag.

"I was _kidding_, Bella," I clarified. "About the being the worst, that is. But you do need more practice with commands and the more you do that the more comfortable you'll get with yelling them at us in practice and at races."

"Edward, my mind went completely blank just now," she said, releasing her shoes from the stretchers. "It's like the flight or fight response. I have a third option ingrained in me, apparently: freeze."

"I'll help you with that. It _will_ get easier – promise," I vowed. "So, now that you're done with the hands-on portion of this workout, wanna help me with my 2,000 meter piece?" Suddenly, Bella looked nauseous. "Relax. This is unofficial. Just say whatever you want - whatever feels right. No pressure."

I programmed the Concept II for a 2,000 meter piece and began rowing. At first Bella was very quiet, though I could see her from my peripheral vision; she was watching intently. When I needed it, I asked her to call for a power ten. And during those hard strokes, she encouraged me to pull harder and to keep going, despite the burn in my legs, back, arms and shoulders. But I could tell that she wasn't comfortable using the vocabulary. It was more of a pep talk than actual commands. Once I was finished, I slowed down and rowed at quarter power to let my heart rate recover.

"Wow, you have a really great sense of rhythm," Bella remarked. "You're like a metronome. I bet that's helpful…" Her sentence trailed off and her cheeks flushed a bright pink. _What is going on in this girl's head?_

"Yeah, I suppose," I said. "So, that time was better but you still need to learn more of the lingo."

"I know," she admitted. "I've been looking at online sites, but there're just so many commands and vocabulary words. I can't possibly learn it all before our first race. Shit."

"Yes, you can," I said. She looked at me with one brow raised in a show of skepticism. "No one questions my abilities, woman." I cocked my brow at her in return, challenging her. "Okay, because I am such a decent guy, I'm going to sweeten our original deal a bit. I'm offering to teach you the ropes: the lingo, the commands, the procedures _and_ the things to avoid, like docks. How does that sound? Deal?"

Bella didn't hesitate, thrusting her hand out for me to shake. "Deal. And what do I need to give you in return? My soul?"

"Nah," I said. "Just a winning season is all." I laughed at the incredulity of the situation, but Bella's face grew serious.

"You got it, Strokeward."

_A/N: So, what do you think of Strokeward? He likes to straddle the line between angel and deviant, I think. Did he place nice this time? Please leave me some love for this fun fic! Also, follow Strokeward on Twitter! Until next time…_


	4. Chapter 4: Topnuts, Tulips and what?

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic. And thanks as always to Barbi, Megsly, Forever_Liz, Hez and SusanAshlea for letting me send them my rough drafts to get their skittles in return. In reference to this chapter, I apologize in advance for all of the vocab words, but it was necessary. I think the rest of the content, however, will make up for it. Let me know._

**Glossary of Terms:**

**Skeg** - Thin piece of flat metal or plastic that helps stabilize the shell in the water.

**Slings** - Folding, portable temporary boat holders. Two are required to hold a boat.

**Racks** – In a boathouse, horizontal (usually metal) bars on which the shells are stored.

**Rigger** – Also called the Outrigger; metal piece attached to the side of a shell which holds the oar in place and allows the boat to be narrow while optimizing leverage of the oar.

**Oarlock** – The rectangular lock at the end of the rigger which attaches the oar to the boat. The oarlock also allows the rower to rotate the oar blade between the "square" and "feather" positions.

**Pin** - The vertical metal rod on which the oarlock rotates.

**Top-nut** – The nut which screws onto the top of the pin holding the oarlock in place.

**Seat** - Molded seat mounted on wheels, single action or double action, which the rower sits on. This moves on a track.

**Roller** - The wheels upon which the seat slide travels along its track.

**Foot stretcher** - An adjustable footplate which allows the rower to easily adjust his or her physical position relative to the slide and the oarlock. The footplate can be moved (or "stretched") either closer to or farther away from the seat.

**Footstop** – The shoe assembly in a shell into which each rower laces his or her feet.

**Gunwales** – (pronounced gunnels) The top rail of the shell.

**Handle** - The part of the oar that the rowers hold and pull with during the stroke.

**Collar** - A wide plastic ring placed around the sleeve of an oar. The button stops the oar from slipping through the oarlock.

**Inboard** - The length of the oar shaft measured from the button to the handle.

**Hatchet blade** - Modern oar blades that have a more rectangular hatchet-shape. (also _cleaver blade_)

**Tulip/Spoon blade** - Traditional U-shaped oar blade.

**Sculling** – Rowing in a boat for one, two or four, where each rower has two short-handled oars instead of one.

**Chapter 4**: Top-nuts, tulips and _what?_

"What? Oh, _come_ on. That sounds like a dirty word, Edward." Bella quirked her brow at me in skepticism, looking for some obvious sign that I was full of shit. After a pause, she sighed, shaking her head, and smirked. "Okay, pray tell, what the hell is a _**skeg**_, then?"

I chuckled at her incredulity before answering. We were in the boathouse, standing beside one of the shells that Coach Esme had set on **slings** to re-letter. The Athena was the women's eight boat, _and_ having it off the **racks** presented me with a perfect opportunity to show Bella the proverbial ropes.

"It's like a keel on a sailboat, but much smaller and thinner," I explained. "See this? Go ahead - feel it." Without thinking, I took her hand and ran her fingers along the slice of metal that was used to stabilize the shell in the water. A tingling, static charge skipped between our hands, prompting me to drop hers. "Uh, sorry."

Bella looked up at me, her fingers still on the skeg, and a noticeable blush spreading across her cheeks and neck. She stood quickly and ran her fingers through her hair - apparently a nervous habit - which only further disheveled her messy ponytail.

"Um, it's okay," she said. "Edward, there's just too much to remember. How am I going to even retain all of the boat parts, not to mention the commands? This is hopeless." Bella leaned back in defeat against the other boats in the racks, banging her heading against a **rigger**. "Shit! Mother…ouch." She rubbed her head and I struggled not to laugh - _again._

"It isn't hopeless, Bella," I said, gesturing for her to show me her head to check for a flesh wound. Sure enough, a small, bleeding gash marred her otherwise perfect scalp. _Slightly weird thought, Cullen._ I sat her down on the wooden floor of the boathouse and walked to the doorway where we kept the first aid kit. Dressing her wound, I noticed her hair smelled like melon and plums - _I think. And yet another odd thought, jackass. _After fastening the butterfly bandage on her, I replaced the kit and came back, squatting down to her on the floor. "You're kinda klutzy for a coxswain." She grimaced but then managed a small smile when she saw I was teasing her.

"Okay, so the point I was _trying_ to make was that this _will_ get easier, Bella," I continued, helping her off the floor. "Just trust me. The more you say these words, the more you'll retain them. Until then, keeping notes isn't just nerdy; it's a good idea." Just for good measure, I winked at her. Truthfully, when Bella had shown up to the boathouse with a notebook, I had to restrain myself from laughing. But there _were_ a lot of terms associated with this sport, and it was probably best for her to write them all down until she could remember them all.

"All right. So let's go over this again, okay?" I pointed to a portion of the boat. "What's this?"

"**Rigger**. Duh, Edward." Bella looked at me like I was a preschool teacher trying to explain two plus two to her. My finger went to another spot and I silently prompted her for an answer. "**Oarlock**. Come on, I know _these._"

"Well, we're going to cover all of the boat parts, Bella," I said sternly. "What kind of teacher would I be if I skipped from simple arithmetic to advanced calculus? Now, focus." Another piece of equipment - another answer requested.

"**Pin**?" she answered, in more of a question than a declaration. I nodded, pointing to another small piece on the oarlock. "**Top-nut**." Again I nodded, moving my focus inside the shell.

"And this?"

"**Seat**," she said in an outburst. Bella seemed pleased that she remembered that one, and I chuckled, pointing to another. "Umm. Shit. I don't know the inside stuff as well. They're wheels, Edward."

"Yes, but that's not what we call them, Bella." She scrunched up her nose in deliberation. And one more time, I held in my urge to laugh by chewing on the insides of my cheeks. _Bella's kind of cute when she's concentrating. _Cute_, Cullen? Get your shit straight._

"Ha! **Roller**, right?" A bit taken aback by my unbidden thoughts, I simply nodded. Bella, on the other hand, was terribly excited and pumped her fist in the air in triumph. _Sheesh._ Bella Swan was a complete dork.

"Okay, how about this?" I gestured toward the old shoes that were positioned in front of each seat. "This one's a twofer." _Again with the scrunched-up nose. This girl makes the funniest faces._ Bella checked her notebook as if it would give her the answer, but I knew we hadn't gone over these parts.

"Think feet, Bella."

"I know one of these is the **foot stretcher**, but I'm not sure what part actually _is_," she began. "So there are the shoes and then the metal and rubber part that you can move. I don't know, Edward. Can I ask for help on this one?" So I showed Bella that the foot stretcher was the moveable part and the **footstop** was the shoe assembly. She eagerly wrote them both in her notebook.

"Just one more and we can move on from the boat, okay?" I said to Bella, pointing to the **gunwales**. "And this one's spelled differently than how it sounds. Hint, hint."

"Gunwales?" I nodded, pleased with her overall progress. "Why the hell do they spell it gun-whales if it's pronounced gunnels?"

"Sorry. The crew guru doesn't know the answer to that one," I joked. "Okay, now to the oars." We walked over to the wall where the oars were kept. Figuring I'd work my way from floor to ceiling - the oars were stored handles-down and blades pointing skyward - I indicated where I wanted her to begin.

"**Handle**. Easy!" Bella said, like she was giving her final answer on a game show. Moving my hand up, I looked at her expectantly. "**Collar**. And the length of the oar, from collar to handle is the **inboard**, right?"

"Wow, my little cox is growing up so fast," I joked, immediately regretting the whole fucking thing. It was all sorts of weird and awkward. Laughing uncomfortably, I ran my fingers through my already messy hair. There _were _too many sexual innuendos in this damn sport for my taste, suddenly. _What is wrong with you, Cullen?_ "Uh, yes, those are all correct. And this? What type of blade is it?"

Bella looked at the sharp-edged blade for what seemed like ages. It wasn't like the other oars we used in practice, so I doubted she'd know the term, but I couldn't resist stumping her. With more fascination than I cared to admit, I studied Bella's face as her eyes narrowed, her brows knit together and her lips twisted to one side. For the first time, I noticed the sprinkling of freckles along the bridge of her nose and the gentle upward slope of her nose at the tip.

"I don't know this one, Edward," she whispered, jolting me out of my observations. She looked at me, slightly defeated, adding, "These aren't the ones I'm familiar with. Are they special?"

"These are called **hatchet blades**," I answered. "See how they're more rectangular than the ones you're used to? They're used when we race and are a bit more modern. Traditionally the other blades are easier to learn with, though, and we don't mind if they get beat up. Do you remember what the other kind is called?" I gestured to the traditional U-shaped blades lined up next to the hatchet blades.

"Shit, I was gonna say U-shaped, but I know there's a name for them," she said. "Let me think."

Bella started pacing. I started watching.

She had rather shapely legs - for a petite and somewhat accident-prone person, at least. _What does _that_ have to do with anything? _The legs came to a terminus at a round, tight-looking ass and hips that were just the right amount of curvy. Then there was the tiny waist and… Bella turned toward me and rather shamelessly, I continued my scrutiny. There were those perky tits again and nice collar bones and slender neck…

"Edward!" _Shit! What the fuck was I _doing_? So messed up, Cullen. We will _not_ even speak of this - ever. Not even in your head. Done._

"Sorry," I said. "Missed that."

"I said I remembered. It was a flower name - that's how I got that one. **Tulip**, right?"

"Yes," I answered quickly. "It's also called a spoon blade, in case you hear some of the guys using that term, instead. They probably don't like calling them tulips. Makes us look less than manly, you know."

Bella's eyes fluttered a bit, and I wondered whether she was feeling all right. The blush came back with insatiable force, and it took all of my strength not to finally ask her what had prompted all of the red faces. Whatever the thought, it seemed to momentarily derail her.

"Ha - trust me, Edward. There's no chance of any of you guys not being manly in this sport," she managed, clearing her throat. "Rowing is a perfect mix of raw, masculine strength and feminine grace." She faltered again at her own choice of words, and began stuttering an explanation. "Oh, please don't tell the guys I said that. I mean, it's not like you're feminine - at all. God, so far from it. All sweaty and grunting and muscle, and…_shit_. I suck at this."

I took a tentative step toward her and looked down to where she was nervously chewing on her bottom lip. I clenched my fist to resist the sudden urge I had to ease her lip away from the gnawing.

"Bella, it's cool. You worry too much about what people think," I said quietly. "I know what you mean. It's almost…erotic." _Too far, Cullen. Way too fucking far...and _now_ you have a boner. Slick, stud muffin._ Now it was _my_ turn at embarrassment. The heat crept into my face with a prickly itch as I struggled to distract myself from the situation.

"Erotic…hmmm." Bella saved me from my mortification, nodding as she pondered my logic. "You know, I can see that. I mean, I've never rowed out there, so I feel like I can't truly appreciate it, but watching you guys, I can imagine." Another awkward silence brought on by an equally awkward innuendo. For both of our sakes, Bella and I needed to stop contemplating the parallels between our sport and other, similar pleasures. _Or I'm going to explode._

"I've never had so much difficulty talking about rowing before - without running into a mine field of double-entendres, that is," I admitted. Certainly I'd spent many hours discussing the merits of crew and rowing with my teammates and friends (though my friends were probably more than tired of the subject matter). It seemed impossible now to avoid the innuendos, but had it always been that way and I'd just ignored it? Unlikely. I _was_ a guy, after all. _Why is this so hard? Difficult. Fuck._

"So, can we get on the river yet?" Bella asked me, a glint in her eye. She knew it was much too soon for that. I simply looked at her with my head cocked to one side. My expression said it all. "Fine. Party pooper. I know all of the parts. Please?"

"No whining. There's no whining in rowing," I joked sternly. "And don't forget, little one, you have yet to master all of the commands. Until you feel comfortable bossing my ass around an erg, no **sculling** for you."

It was really just an excuse to delay taking her out on the river. Bella needed more time to get comfortable with the sport - and her as part of it - before she rowed in a scull. The smaller shells were the ultimate test of know-how and strength. For sweep rowers, it was a bit of an adjustment having two smaller oars instead of one heavy sweep oar. The boats were more delicate and much easier to capsize as well. For a coxswain, the learning curve might be less drastic. But Bella needed to feel at peace with the river; this much was vital when one was rowing a mere inch off its surface.

"Come on, kid," I said, playfully putting her in a gentle headlock, walking us out of the boathouse. "Let's go erg and then try to have some semblance of a real social life." She quickly ducked out of my embrace, running for the stairs. At least she seemed to be getting more comfortable with the idea of erging with me.

"Don't call me kid," she said as we reached the workout room, her body inches from mine. Instinctively I took a step back. "I might be short, but make no mistake - I'm _not_ a little girl."

I immediately pushed away the unwelcome thoughts that sprung to my mind, suddenly in dire need of a good, exhausting workout.

And so it went, like this, for the next couple of weeks. Bella and I spent nearly all of our spare time somewhere in the boathouse. I taught her the things she needed to know, and Bella listened and learned like an eager student. We even revisited the tanks occasionally so that she'd get more at ease with the feel of the oar in her hands and the resistance provided by the water swirling around the blade. While there was no boat to set up and no current or floating debris, rowing in the stationary boat seemed to help her gain confidence.

"I'm glad that you and Bella seem to be getting along, Edward," Coach said one day when I was helping him re-rig one of the boats before class. "She seems different…and that's a good thing."

"Bella just needed instruction and for someone to teach her the basics," I said, shrugging off his compliment. For some reason, it made me uncomfortable. "She still doesn't think she's ready for Head of the Charles, though."

Carlisle put down his wrench and studied me for a moment. "Do _you_ think she's ready?"

"Not sure, Coach," I answered truthfully. "Unfortunately, we won't know until the race. Of course, by then, it's too late. But you need Alice in Emmett's four, and Bree is tied up with the women's eight, so what other option do we have?"

"You make it sound like having Bella cox for you is a chore," he said, concern creasing his forehead. Carlisle had always behaved more like a father than a coach; many of us considered him one - without the scrutiny and "institutional" knowledge that parents typically displayed. "Should I be concerned that you two still aren't as close as you need to be? Edward, you know how important it is for you two to work as one."

_Not as close as we need to be, Coach? How close is that? Sleeping together?_ Mentally I lashed myself for the snide remark, and the fact that I'd even thought it. Bella and I had grown close through our training sessions, but was it enough?

"Coach, we see each other every morning," I began, running my hands through my hair and leaning against the gunwales of the boat for support. "Then we go to class, meet back here, spend hours working out, reviewing terminology and memorizing everything there is to know. I'm _with_ her more than I'm _not_. Trust me, Coach, I _know_ how important the connection is. I'm working on it."

"Does Bella know that's what you're doing, in addition to helping to teach her?"

_Why does it matter if she doesn't fully understand my motives? I've been clear with her…haven't I?_ The question rattled around in my brain. What difference did it make? Either way, we needed to be in sync with each other, and that much I _had_ made clear.

"Yeah, I think so," I answered. My conscience was making the statement difficult to swallow, however. "Coach, the point is, we've been working a lot together and that will only translate to practices and the race. Bella will be fine." _Just keep saying it until you buy what you're selling._

"Good. Good," Carlisle said, picking up his wrench again. We worked in silence after that; he seemed satisfied with my answers. The clicks and clanks of us working to secure the rigging to the boat was the only sound. _Another comforting noise._

"Hey, Coach? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What made you pick Bella as our new cox?" I asked. "I mean, I know we needed one, but she didn't have any experience. And you could've put her in the novice boat. Why ours?" Hopefully my line of questioning wouldn't come off as disrespectful. I was honestly curious.

"Frankly, Edward, I chose her because of you," he said. I choked on my spit and immediately starting coughing. Urging him on with my hand, I attempted to get my spluttering under control. "You and Jane never got along that well, and after she crashed the boat…that relationship was doomed. Alice is good for you, but there's too much familiarity there, so you don't respect her commands the way a stroke should. Bella, on the other hand, showed a fire and spunk that I couldn't ignore. Even that first day; even as nervous as she was. I've watched you two during practice and there's something there that makes me confident. You two _work_ together."

We finished the work on the boat and I rushed off to class, my head full of Carlisle's words. They bounced around like excited ions as I showered and then grew to rather pesky marbles as I arrived at my first morning class. This was going to be a long-ass day. Shoving the thoughts of Bella aside for the next 60 minutes, I opened my book and notebook. But it wasn't _my _notebook.

_**Top-nut. Tulip. Tea-bagging.**_

I nearly lost my shit for the second time that morning. Bella's distinctly feminine (but messy) writing stared back at me, in the form of an alphabetical list of all of the terms we'd been reviewing. And even though she hadn't been taking notes during all of our conversations, there they were - all the rowing vernacular that I'd shared with her thus far.

My eyes greedily scanned the page - looking for errors or studying her penmanship, I couldn't be sure - until they settled upon some words that were woefully out of place amongst the crew lingo.

_**Beautiful.**_

_**Emerald.**_

_**Sinewy.**_

_**Confusion.**_

_**Ache.**_

And then beneath those cryptic words was a phrase that looked like it had been written hastily, the writing even more garbled. After struggling for a minute or so to make it out, I read it softly aloud.

_**Je vis d'amour et d'eau douce.**_ _I live on love and fresh water._

_It appears that Bella studies French._ But why would she write something in French in her notebook? What did it mean, other than the obvious declaration? What did the words above it mean? _So many questions; so little that doesn't intrigue me when it comes to Bella Swan._ These were all things I needed answers to. Until I could see her later that day, however, my burning questions would have to wait.

That afternoon I got to the boathouse early, lucky not to have been ticketed for speeding. My poor Volvo coughed in exhaustion as I parked at the door. Bella's truck was noticeably absent, and silently I hoped that it was only traffic that was keeping her. As I waited for her in the boathouse, pacing on the deck facing the river, my stomach churned like the current-swept debris that got caught up along the dock before finally floating on its way. _Shit. Why are you nervous? Nothing new here, you idiot. _But I couldn't ignore the fact that my body seemed to disagree.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Edward," a voice behind me exclaimed. Bella stood at the doorway, looking disheveled and out of breath. "I couldn't find my damn notebook, and…"

Without a word, I brushed past her and reached into my bag beside the erg. My stomach already in knots at the myriad possible reactions, I handed her the notebook and immediately set out to explain. Her shock was plainly written across her features.

"Before you go thinking I stole this from you, I want you to know I didn't mean to take it," I sputtered. "I'm not sure how it ended up with my stuff, but I realized I had it only today, so no harm done, right?" And the blush was back. Again. She flipped through the pages quickly, ending on the page that had so captured my attention earlier that day, before closing it and throwing the book in her bag.

"No, um, it's fine," she stammered. "I…was just worried I'd lost it. All of those words…"

"Yeah," I said, letting my word hang there between us like a wrecking ball. What was I doing? _Just shut up and pretend like you don't care._ Too late. I was on auto-pilot and heading straight for the mountain face.

"Bella, I didn't mean to pry but I couldn't help but notice…the words. And the sentence in French," I nearly whispered. "'I live on love and fresh water.' What's the significance?"

"You understand French?" Her eyes resembled those of a dear, staring down imminent death at the hands of a hunk of metal on wheels and a neglectful driver.

"Yeah. Took it all through high school and my freshman year here - as my foreign language requirement," I said. "How long have you been taking French?"

"Um, same as you," she said sheepishly. "And I'm double-majoring in English Lit and French." Suddenly the floor seemed very interesting to Bella, and she made quick work of studying it. This wasn't going well. _Time for another approach._

"So…I like the sentence you wrote in there," I said, smiling at the top of her head. _Come on, Bella. Take the bait, please._ "Why did you write it in your notebook?"

The silence between us was deafening, and I almost gave up. "It sounded beautiful in French and English," she began, chewing on her bottom lip again. "As you know, a lot of times things are lost in translation. This one…well, it rings true for me." A renewed blush spread over her cheeks. This time I couldn't resist.

"That blush gives you away, you know, Bella," I said softly, taking care not to frighten her or make her think I was poking fun. "And I like the phrase or saying - wherever it came from. It's appropriate."

She looked up at me finally, and I was stunned by the raw emotion in her deep brown eyes. Without words, it was like she was pleading for me to accept her, to accept her quirks and private thoughts, and to keep them and protect them for her. Who was I to even ask her to explain her inner musings, anyhow? Abruptly, I felt ashamed.

"Bella, I'm so sorry," I said. "I shouldn't pry. It's none of my business, and again, I apologize for inadvertently taking the notebook. You don't need to explain yourself at all." To distract myself from yet another uncomfortable situation, I walked back out onto the deck, eager to give her space. After a moment of staring out at the river, I felt her presence right behind me.

"It's okay," she said, moving to stand next to me against the railing. "And thanks." Out of the corner of my eye I watched her chew on her lower lip before continuing. "As for the words you asked me about - one of my professors asked us to create a poem by thinking of keywords, lynchpins, if you will. These are the ones I thought of. It was supposed to be very stream of consciousness. Whenever the mood strikes, write it down. You know?"

I nodded, eager for her to keep going if she wanted to. Luckily, she did not disappoint. "These words remind me of my everyday life in one way or another. Nature, friends, school and rowing. These things are like a collection of pebbles, picked up in my travels and kept safe in a leather pouch. Professor Moore said we should feel these words as intimately as other parts of our being. She's a bit of a hippie, but I really like the class."

"So these are your pebbles, huh?" I asked. She smiled at me. "I like them. Sorry that two of them are 'confusion' and 'ache.' But I guess such is life, right?" Bella giggled nervously in response, but then grew wistful and nodded her head. We were silent for another few heartbeats.

"This river is beautiful," Bella said. "I know it needs a bit of cleaning up, but even with the stuff floating in it, it's nice. With the sky behind it and us on it…it's beautiful."

_A/N: Okay, gang. Hope the vernacular didn't kill you all. Strokeward would be proud of you for sticking it out. We both hope you liked this chapter. I'd like to thank everyone who's commented and given this fic love thus far. Thank you! I might not respond to all of my reviews, but please know I love them all and appreciate every one of them! Follow me on Twitter – ()LauraLoo77 and Strokeward, too – ()Strokeward._


	5. Chapter 5: Head of the Charles

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_So sorry for the long delay, my crew fans. I know you've missed Strokeward; I have, too. But he's back and in all his glory. Hopefully, this long chapter makes up for it. Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic. And thanks as always to Barbi, Megsly, Forever_Liz, Hez and SusanAshlea for letting me send them my rough drafts to get their skittles in return. _

**Glossary of Terms:**

**Oarlock** – The rectangular lock at the end of the rigger which attaches the oar to the boat. The oarlock also allows the rower to rotate the oar blade between the "square" and "feather" positions.

**Heat** – a round of a race. For example, men's eights is one heat; women's fours is another.

**Hands on** **– A command to grasp the boat by the gunnels in preparation to move it.**

**Skying the blade - **Coming to the catch with the blade too high above the surface of the water.

**Head of the Charles** - The largest rowing event in the world, it is a head race held in October on the Charles River in Boston, Mass. Head races are time trial races; boats begin with a rolling start at 10-20 second intervals and are timed over a set distance. Head races vary in length from 2,000 – 12,000 meters.

**Regatta** – All races. Those held in the spring and summer and feature side-by-side racing are called regattas; all the boats start at the same time from a stationary position and the winner is the boat that crosses the finish line first.

**Paddle** – a command to row lightly.

**(Number) fall in/out **– command telling the rower(s) either to stop or start rowing with everyone else. The number indicated which seats should stop or start.

**Down on port/starboard** – means that the boat is leaning to one side. Rowers on the side that is down must raise their hands; the other side must lower theirs.

**Even pressure** – command that tells rowers to put with even pressure on both sides.

**Row on** – command to keep rowing until told to stop.

**Power Ten** – command for ten of the rowers' hardest strokes. Often used to pass another boat in a race.

**Look ahead** – command shouted by a crew about to be overtaken by another, telling the overtaking crew of their presence.

**Blades in (side)** – tells rowers on one side to pull their blades in, in order to prevent hitting an object or another boat in the water, or to let another crew pass on a narrow river.

**AMF 10** – ten extremely hard strokes after yelling of the phrase AMF 10.

**Chapter 5**: The Head of the Charles

The first race of the year was upon us.

Part of me wanted to scream and drag my heels the whole way, convinced we were nowhere near ready. The other, far more dominant part of me couldn't wait to experience that exhilarating sensation again. I craved it. On the morning of October 23, the entire crew team met at the boathouse at 4:30 a.m. - yes, _that_ early on a Saturday - for the trip. The **race heats** began at 8 a.m. and it would only take a little over an hour to get there, but we'd need to unload, re-rig the boats and get the varsity fours to the river in enough time for them to practice before their heat later that afternoon.

Coach barked out orders as each of us scurried around in preparation for departure. There were so many things to do, despite us having de-rigged the six shells the previous evening. Each shell had to be gingerly loaded onto the trailer and secured, along with all of the oars, riggers, seats and other moveable pieces of the boat that needed to be removed for travel. This part always served as foreplay for me, and heightened my anticipation of the race.

Despite it being early, the team was alive with nervous chatter all the way to Boston. As always, we traveled in vans by crew: varsity women together, men's eight together, and so on. By default that meant that our coxes rode with us. Bella looked as though she might be carsick.

"Bella, are you okay?" I asked her quietly. She looked green as she finally closed the book in her lap. "Do you get motion sickness? If so, reading's probably the worst thing. Need us to pull over?" Bella vehemently shook her head, but that only seemed to make her feel worse.

"No, I'm okay," she said as she stifled a groan. I watched her eyes dart quickly around - to Coach in the front seat and behind us to the other guys. Then she leaned over to me and whispered, "I'm so incredibly nervous. What if I choke out there tomorrow?"

"It'll be fine, Bella," I assured her, despite the knots in my own stomach. She needed to know that I _knew_ she could do it. Without my confidence in her, this wouldn't work. "You and I have worked hard to prepare for this. We're ready. _You're _ready. Umm…try to relax. Go to your happy place. It works for me. Think of something that makes you happy."

Bella's gaze was suddenly back in her lap, but I watched as her face turned that wonderful shade of crimson as she smiled. "Thanks, Edward," she said softly.

"Are you in your happy place?"

"Yeah," she said, her face still flushed. _God, what I wouldn't give for a glimpse into that head of hers._ As our coxswain closed her eyes to focus on her "palace of Zen," I laid my head against the seat and drifted off amid visions of sandy beaches, big surf and…a petite brunette in a string bikini? With a gasp and choking cough, I awoke and took stock of my surroundings. Coach Carlisle was pulling the van down to the staging area next to the river. _Perfect timing._ Bella looked over at me kindly, and after a few moments, motioned for me to wipe my mouth. _Drool. Awesome._

"All right, guys," Coach said. "Let's get unloaded in five. I gotta get the van in and out quickly. Hustle!" We piled out of the van and immediately began untying the shells and other equipment. With the trailer unhinged, Carlisle drove the van off to park it while we worked. Bella seemed unsure of herself, so I suggested she pull the oars off the trailer and line them up on the ground. It was controlled chaos as we got our home base established, but we were largely organized by the time Coach returned.

"Gang, bring it in," he called, motioning with his hand for us to gather close. Gesturing to a sheet of paper, he informed us that the men's four would be racing at 3 p.m. and the eights the next day. Of course, that meant we were going to be staying in Boston. Normally, we would have just made the short commute both days, but because the races on Sunday began early, and practice even earlier, Carlisle had petitioned the university board of governors for approval to rent a few hotel rooms for the night.

In my peripheral vision, I saw Alice standing shoulder to shoulder with Bella. It appeared as if Alice was holding her up while she gently rubbed Bella's arm. _Shit. My cox is _not _in her Zen place anymore. What can I do?_ We had plenty of time before our race tomorrow. I decided I would make it my mission to get her to relax. But how? Maybe a workout in the hotel gym? Watching movies? Go drinking? None of these options seemed viable.

"Hey, Jasper, you got a minute, man?" I called to my buddy as we walked down to the river's edge. His eyes drifted from Alice and Bella and he smiled and nodded. Scratching the back of my head, suddenly I felt foolish for having to seek advice on this shit. "Okay, so I need some suggestions on how to help Bella relax." Jasper raised his eyebrows at me, but said nothing. "No, okay, _not_ how it sounds at all. She's a nervous wreck, man, and that is _not_ going to be good for us tomorrow. I want to help her, but I don't know what girls like to do to relax."

Jasper laughed heartily - head thrown back, full-belly action - before clamping his hand over his mouth when he glanced at my scowl. "Sorry, Ed," he said, still chuckling. "I've just never heard the panic so clear in your voice, or seen the face you just made." When I gave him another look, he stifled his guffawing and got serious. "Okay. Girls. Relaxation. Right. Alice likes classical music, candles and bubble baths."

"Fuck, J, that's couples shit," I groaned, tugging on my hair. Distractedly I watched the men's fours go by, wondering if Emmett would have a better idea. _Right – like playing Wii and flip cup count as relaxation for girls. Wonder if he and Rose…_

"Hey, stud muffins," called a saccharin sing-song voice, right on cue. "Have you prepared your sacks for their untimely ends?" Rose strutted down the small hill to the waterfront, one perfectly manicured eyebrow poking out from behind her sunglasses. _Right._

"Like I said before, Rose - not going to happen," I replied, my balls instinctively retracting in fear. "Head races are my specialty, you know. Jasper and I have this one on lock, right, J?"

"Hell, yeah!"

Rose smiled as if she'd just feasted on a juicy canary. "We'll see. Oh, and Edward? I can't wait to see your pasty white ass in all its glory. Good luck, boys." Then she turned on her heel and walked downriver a bit farther to join the other members of her boat.

"Man, I swear that girl is pure evil," Jasper said with a shudder, unconsciously cupping himself. "We gotta best them tomorrow. I'd like to have kids someday, Ed."

"This is why I need to make it my mission to keep Bella relaxed and confident," I said, a nervous sweat breaking out over my upper lip. "Fuck, if we lose tomorrow…"

"Get her a private massage, if you can. Order room service for her - I think she's bunking with Alice, Bree and Esme so they won't give you trouble - and instead of going drinking tonight, make sure she goes to bed early. _Alone_." Jasper's tone was strangely all business, and I couldn't help but think his balls were still on his mind. But then his last word tripped a hidden sensor in my brain.

"Wait. Does she have a boyfriend or something?" I asked, suddenly panicked and pissed off. _What the fuck, Cullen. Get a grip on yourself._

"I don't think so," he answered. I let out a gust of air in relief. _Relief?_ Bella didn't need the distraction right now, I reasoned. A boyfriend would surely be one of those. "But you know how we all tend to hook up. Just watch out for her."

"Oh, right. 'Course. Thanks, J," I said with a shaky voice. Jasper looked like he wanted to ask me more about that, but the men's novice eights were approaching the starting gate. As each crew rowed past the start, it was a controlled chaos of driving oar blades, yelling coxswains and jerky surges of boats in the calm water. **Head races** - which provided crews with a rolling start versus a side-by-side regatta, which was a start from a dead stop - always appeared much more fluid and graceful. But since this heat was all novice boats, it was more chaos than order. _Ah, the good ol' days._ For these freshmen, it was likely their very first race.

We occupied the morning and early afternoon watching the other heats, eating, checking out the vendors selling Head of the Charles paraphernalia…and trying not to think about the consequences of losing to the girls' boat the next day. Thinking it might make Bella happy, I purchased her a race t-shirt - pink and with the letters HotC and 2010 on it - and got myself a long-sleeved one listing all of the colleges and universities competing in this year's race. It was something I did each year. Instead of medals, I had t-shirts. _Well, I had those, too._ I almost made it back to our "camp."

"Cullen. Long time. I didn't know pink was your favorite color."

I didn't need to look up to know the person belonging to the voice. And the fucker was on my turf. Well, close to it, anyways.

"James," I said simply, looking up after I'd arranged my best poker face. The smug bastard was Skidmore's stroke, and he'd been a thorn in my ass since our freshman year at our respective schools. Even in the timed races, it seemed I was always competing with him and his boat of thugs. Frankly, I didn't know how they met the strict weight class requirements of the varsityboat. The guys were always bigger and meatier, which meant more power on the water. I'd have liked to think it also made them slower on our good days.

"So, Cullen, you break in your new cox yet?" he asked with a smirk. "I heard she's really timid, but once you loosen her up, she's a champ." The innuendo would have been clear to an outsider; to me, it crossed the line. I dropped the shirts and came at him like a raging bull. Taken aback, James had no time to defend himself, and his body crashed into the side of our trailer when I shoved him against it. Using my forearm under his chin to choke him, I used all of the adrenalin in my body to serve as leverage to compensate for our size difference. The guy could have body-slammed me if given the opportunity.

"You will not speak of my coxswain - or anyone else on my team, for that matter - in that manner ever again," I hissed quietly and calmly. "If you have an issue, take it up with me on the water. Do not bring your bullshit here. Now you're going to walk the fuck away and if I see your ugly mug over here at all this weekend, I will be happy to inform your coach that you're sexually harassing the ladies of my team. And where would your boat be without its stroke?"

That seemed to register with the prick. Under my arm, I felt the muscles of his neck relax, along with the coiled tension in his body. Sensing the fight gone from the animal, I slackened my hold but did not remove my arm. With a sidelong glance behind me, he huffed and shook me off.

"Whatever, Cullen. See you out there tomorrow. Make sure your stopwatch works."

"Hey, Ed. Everything all right? It looked like you and Jimmy Skidmark were going to throw down." Emmett's booming voice was all eager beaver with the prospect of a fight. As I turned around to face my team, it became clear that a few of the guys had been ready to jump in if things had gotten physical.

"Nah. Not this time," I answered as he threw his arm around me and pulled me into a headlock. "Though I would love to see the look on his face if we could make his nickname a reality. Think you could help me arrange that, big man?" Emmett snickered and answered with a "hell, yeah" as we walked back toward the river. Once Emmett allowed me to get upright, I saw Bella standing there, the discarded shirts in her fist. She looked all sorts of nervous, frightened, unsure and adorable. And she was biting her bottom lip. _Damn it. I like that._

"Hey," I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Hey," she parroted. She looked at me, then down at the shirts, then up at me again. "Was this for me?"

"Ugh…yeah," I said, like a simpleton. _Let's try more than one or two words, okay?_ "Well, the pink one's for you." _Brilliant._ She blushed but held the much larger one out to me. I took it and then watched as she held up the tiny pink t-shirt.

"Sorry. I thought you'd like it. It says HotC…Head of the Charles. I get t-shirts every year. I thought…sorry," I stammered. Fuck. Where was one of those cartoon black holes when you needed it?

"I like it. Thanks," Bella said, smiling at me. With one more glance in my direction, she tucked the pink cotton between her knees and started taking off her shirt. My mouth immediately objected to the display, though nothing but gibberish stutters came out. Bella wore a black sports bra. _This,_ my mind was able to process. Bella quickly pulled the new t-shirt over her head, obscuring her bra and midriff. She looked down and then up at me again, the smile and blush doing weird things to my vision.

"Thanks, Edward. That was really sweet of you," she said quietly, her fingers coming to rest on my arm. "I like that it says HotC – it's like Hot Cox or something." She laughed at her word substitution, while I stood there like a chimp putting on a show for zoo patrons: all smile and stupidity, while my internal self did backflips and clapped like a fool. Maybe it could be blamed on the odd rush of almost-fight-fueled adrenaline, immediately combined with…Bella.

"Umm…yeah," I might have said. Then she was gone. My hand automatically went to the spot of skin where she'd touched me. I wasn't sure how much time passed before Jasper's face came into focus.

"…the EMT or something? Ed, what the fuck is up?" I shook my head and blinked a few times like I was coming out of a damned trance. He was standing mere inches from me, his face in mine, obviously looking for signs of trauma. I realized then that he was shaking me.

"J, I'm fine," I managed. "Please stop shaking me. You're going to _give_ me reason to visit the EMT. I'm cool. Swear." Jasper clearly didn't buy it, but maybe he'd seen the whole weird display, and it had given him all the evidence he needed to be certain I was not going to keel over, because he let it go.

We watched the men's fours race that afternoon. Most of the time, though, I watched Bella watch them. Part of me wanted to gauge her reaction to watching guys she knew and Alice in a real race. I didn't want to admit to myself what my other reasons were for keep an eye on her. Luckily, Emmett's boat won their heat. By a healthy margin. So I could cover for not paying attention with plenty of ribbing. Perfect.

"Nice race, Em. Looks like you were **skying your blade** there a bit," I joked as he walked by with the other guys, carrying the shell. I knew damn well he couldn't do anything to me with a boat resting on his shoulders. "Thanks to Jake, Felix and Garrett, though, you didn't have to worry. Right?" Emmett, of course, growled at me as they walked by, muttering something about my pecker. He was so much fun to harass. "You were rowing away like a jack rabbit!"

"Fuck you, Cullen," he muttered as they racked the boat on the trailer. "If you have an ounce of self-preservation, you'll stop. Now. Remember: I know where you live."

"Oh, relax, McCarty. I was just messing around," I said, relenting in favor of _not _coming home one day to all my worldly possessions on our front lawn - again. "You guys did great. Really. Awesome time, too."

Once all of our crews were done for the day, we packed up our stuff and headed to the hotel. The drive was fairly quick, and everyone got settled in their rooms, took showers and scrounged for dinner on their own. Jasper, Jake, Emmett and I shared a room; while I wasn't thrilled with sharing a bed with a guy, Jasper and I decided we'd spoon. Jake could handle Emmett's sleep-punching better than either of us, anyways.

"Ed, you coming out with us tonight?" Emmett asked from the bathroom door, as he rubbed his hair dry with a towel. "I think we're gonna hit Phoenix Landing. You in?"

Jasper shot me a look, but said nothing. I shook my head ruefully. Damn cox-stroke bond. "Nah. I'm going to stay in tonight." When Emmett's mouth dropped open, I added, "I want to be fresh as a daisy tomorrow when we kick Skidmarks' ass. Have a few for me, okay?"

"Most of us won't be out late, anyways," Jasper said. "Coach's given us an 11 p.m. curfew. So you won't be missing much." The two of them left moments later, and I immediately hatched my plan - which included cleaning our hotel room. Jasper had thankfully given me the number to the girls' room, so I hopped on the elevator and made a beeline for the third floor and Bella. After pacing a few times in front of the door, I raised my fist to knock. It opened before I could make contact.

"Hi, Edward," Esme said as she greeted me with a knowing smile. "Please, come on in." She stepped aside to allow me into the room, and I noticed in relief that it appeared all of the other girls had also gone out for the night. Bella was reclined on one of the beds, reading, and seemed surprised to see me. The fact that she still wore the HotC shirt did not go unnoticed.

"Hey, Bella," I said. "Decide to stay in tonight, or did Coach convince you to hang out with me?" The confused look on her face suggested it was the former and I cringed. Less than one minute in her company and I was again making an ass out of myself. _Fucking awesome._

"Not really much of a drinker," she explained. "And Coach _did_ suggest I do something relaxing tonight in preparation for tomorrow's race." Gesturing to her book, Bella shrugged. I took a few steps closer and read the cover.

"'The Things They Carried?' Not very light - or relaxing - reading," I said. "That book kept me up at night. Making lists. Couldn't get it out of my head."

"I'm reading it for my writing class," Bella said, her eyes focused on the pages in front of her. "I find the writing style very jarring - in a good way." Finally, she put the book down and looked at me. _And…there's the blush. So dependable. Is she embarrassed? Do I have something in my teeth? _After sliding my tongue around inside my mouth, I ruled out the second option. "So…um…you wanted to _hang out_ with me tonight?"

"Yeah." _Say more, Cullen._ "I…actually…well, I thought it might help tomorrow if I treated you to something relaxing tonight." Bella's brows shot up so high I thought they might launch themselves right off her forehead. Then she turned an almost purple-red.

"What I mean…what I meant was room service," I stammered. "Then I thought I'd arrange for you to get a massage in the spa downstairs. You know, to help you relax. For tomorrow. That's all."

"Oh. Thanks, Edward," Bella said, tugging on a strand of her brown hair. "Is this something you do for all your coxes?"

"Nope. Never." Esme had magically disappeared during our discussion, but had rematerialized by the door. _Weird how she was always doing that._

"Why don't you two have dinner in Edward's room?" she suggested. I could have kissed her. "It'll be nice and quiet up there for a little while. Besides, I want to watch 'Don't Forget the Lyrics,' and I like to sing along. Bella, you go on, honey."

"You sure, Esme? I'm fine staying here with you," Bella said timidly. I struggled not to roll my eyes and smack my forehead with my hand. But Esme, once again, came through like a champ. I really loved this woman.

"No. I insist, dear," she said sternly, but with a smile. "You and Edward go have dinner, and I want _you_ to focus on relaxing tonight. Edward, will you make sure she's back by curfew?" I nodded and told her that of course I would, and Esme practically shoved us out the door.

"Shall we?" Bella asked as she tugged on the hem of her shirt. We rode the elevator in silence, but I was too occupied to notice. It was as if we were on a first date or something, I noted. Why was I making such a big deal out of this? _Not a date. Not even close. No one to impress. So lighten up._

"So, do you mind having dinner with me…in my room?" The question, once out of my mouth, sounded perverted, wrong and date-like - a pretty horrible combination. What was it about this girl that got me all tangled up? We exited the elevator and walked down the hall. "I mean, I thought it would be nice to not go out, deal with crowds or the rest of the team. If you don't want room service, I could go out and get you something. I just -"

"Edward. Stop." Bella cut me off and saved me from myself. _Fuck._ Then she put her hand on my arm again and I stopped walking. And breathing. _She _did _tell me to stop,_ I reasoned. "Ordering room service would be fine. And I appreciate you doing all of this for me. It's too much. Really. But it's incredibly sweet of you."

_Sweet? She thought I was sweet?_

"Not too much," I muttered as I fiddled with the plastic key card. Why did they make these things so damn hard to use? Finally getting the green light, I pushed the handle and moved so Bella could enter before me. She looked around like she expected Emmett, Jasper and Jake to jump out and surprise her, before turning to me with a smirk.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing. It's…clean in here," she said. "Did you…clean for me, too?"

"Um…yeah. A little." Bella smiled at me - a real, honest-to-god grin, and it rocketed through me like a sonic boom. Like she knew my definition of "a little" was probably a gross understatement. Handing her a menu, I invited her to sit down and take her shoes off. "What are you in the mood for?"

Bella studied the laminated sheet for a few moments, doing that lip-twisting thing that made me want to…_what, Cullen? Kiss her? _I walked over to the window to clear my head and get her out of my line of sight. She just looked so damn hot in the pink t-shirt and a pair of little fleece shorts. It made me loopy.

"I think I'll have a burger - if that's okay with you," she said from behind me. I nodded. "What do you want?" Suddenly, I had one very clear answer for her. And it was _certainly _not on that menu. I gulped, sucking in air like I was drowning, unable to formulate a fucking coherent and relevant response.

"The same," I managed. "Whatever you're having." There was silence for what seemed like eons before I heard the noise of Bella picking the receiver off its cradle. There was no hope of me making it through the night like this. I'd have to send Bella off to her massage as soon as we finished eating. I resolved to call the front desk when she got off the phone.

"Two French onion burgers with fries and a large salad, please," she was telling the concierge. "Yes, and two Cokes. That's it. Okay, thank you." I turned away from the window as she hung up.

"Edward, you feeling okay? You look a little pasty," she said, her concern for my well-being quite clear. "Maybe onion burgers weren't the best idea. Want me to send for some soup and crackers, instead?"

"No, I'm totally fine," I said, mentally gathering myself. "I'm going to call downstairs to book your massage, okay? You can head down there after we eat."

To my surprise, Bella shook her head, the blush coloring her cheeks even though her eyes were studying the weave of the carpet. "It's a really nice gesture, Edward, but I can't go," she said softly. I opened my mouth to ask her why, when she added, "I couldn't let some stranger touch me. I've always been a bit weirded out by stuff like that. And, besides - I'm insanely ticklish."

Well, this presented a problem. I'd been relying on the massage to work a lot of the magic for me. Now how was I going to get Bella to truly relax? "Shit, Bella," I said. "I had no idea. The point was for you to relax tonight, and I'm fucking things up." I wracked my brain for a Plan B, angry I hadn't thought it out enough to already have one, and Bella spoke up.

"Edward, you're not messing things up," she said kindly. "How could you have known? And there's still dinner." I smiled half-heartedly, my ideas circling the drain, as the room service arrived. When I returned with our food, Bella was propped up against the headboard of my bed, biting her bottom lip. "I have an idea - I think. Well, but only if you're willing." _Willing? Sure._

"What's your idea?" I asked as I uncovered the food and handed her a plate of food. Sitting down on the other bed, I took a bite of my burger and nearly groaned with the tasty juiciness of it.

"Maybe _you_ could give me the massage, Edward." I started choking on my burger and inhaled some bun. Shit. Bella wanted me to give her a massage? But she wouldn't take a professional one from some guy named Sven? My brain could not process the implications of this news.

"You want _me_ to do it?" I asked incredulously, once I'd freed my windpipe and wiped my eyes. "Me?" Bella, again, immediately blushed anew, bit her lip _and_ started tugging on her hair. With too many adorable and sexy nervous tics at work, it was all I could do not to attack her, and I retreated until I was hanging off the edge of the bed's other side.

"Never mind. It was a stupid idea."

"No! No, I mean…I'd be happy to - if you are comfortable enough with me doing it," I corrected. The smiling chimp was back and this time, he had cymbals and a fancy hat. I took a huge bite of my burger, chewing so quickly I didn't even taste it. Where could I get massage oils around here? The gift shop?

"I think so," she said, jarring me from my mental shopping. "Edward, we've spent so much time together; if I'm not comfortable with you at this point, I'm destined to be a hermit." Wolfing down the last of my dinner, I grabbed my windbreaker and headed for the door.

"Wait - where are you going?" she asked.

"Um…to get massage oil?" _God, I sound like a perv!_

"I have some lotion in my room. That will be fine." I offered to get it while she finished dinner, and after an awkward visit with Esme - where she warned me about the curfew and the importance of keeping Bella's trust - I ran down the five flights of stairs, eager to get back. Our plates were stacked neatly on the room service tray outside the door and Bella was on her stomach, watching TV on my bed.

"Where do you want me?"

"Bed. Fine," I uttered like a caveman. I grabbed a few fluffy, white towels from the bathroom and laid one on the bed. "Um…you might be more comfortable…well, um, do you want a full deal or just arms and legs? 'Cause for a real massage, you'd um…"

"Well, I need to relax, right?" Bella mused. "So let's do the full Monty. If you're okay with that."

"Sure. Fine. Yup. Good." _Excellent speaking skills, Cullen. You'll surely graduate at the top of your class._ Bella disappeared into the bathroom, taking one of the towels from my hand. Moments later, she reappeared with it wrapped around her. I struggled not to start banging the imaginary cymbals in front of her. My coxswain was naked. With me. In my room. Alone. And I was going to get to touch her - a lot. She climbed onto the bed, the white towel's edges parting up to mid-thigh. _Holy shit._ After lying on her stomach, she released the towel from around her, but left it draped over her.

"You coming over here, Edward, or are you just going to stand there with a death grip on my lotion bottle?" she asked, seemingly teasing me for my best (horny) statue imitation. Like a robot propelled by its desire for naked, female flesh, I shuffled forward and to the bed. All I could see was creamy, pale skin, mahogany hair and freckles. How had I gotten myself into this mess? _Time to buck up, boy. Just put your hands on her, asshole._ I squirted some lotion into my hands and immediately realized this was the fragrance I'd detected before on her. Melons and plums. It was exquisite.

"Sorry if my hands are rough, Bella," I said before they even touched her. My hands were calloused, blistered in a few places and actually pretty gross, when it came down to it. And I'd never given it much thought - until now.

"Shhh. It's fine," she assured me in a hush. The sound went right to my dick, which I tried to mentally beat into submission with images of dead puppies and what Coach would do to me if I didn't behave. Gently, I swept her hair off her neck and wrapped my fingers around her deltoids. Though Bella was petite, I could feel the knots in her shoulders, mixed in with the bone. She moaned and I nearly lost it.

"That feels so good, Edward," she moaned again, and the combination of her voice and my name on her lips sent a shudder through me. Fuck. This massage was going to be the death of me. Each time I pressed the pads of my fingers into her perfect, milky skin, I smelled melons and plums. The aroma and her skin made for a deadly sexual concoction. Oh, this ship was most definitely going down. And then she spoke again, and I was a goner. "And Edward…your hands feel perfect." _Glug. Glug._

Instead of more caveman one-word sentences, I chose to keep my yap shut, and focused on her shoulder blades and the curve of her spine. Her flesh yielded under my touch. _So soft._ Soon the towel was in the way, but I needed to ask permission before I did anything.

"Bella, I need to move the towel, okay?" I asked quietly. I also needed to get on the bed to work her muscles properly. She mumbled an okay, and I took my shoes off, climbed onto the bed and arranged myself over her, before sliding the towel down to her waist. _So much skin._ Working my way down along her spine, I kneaded and pressed and moved my thumbs in a circular pattern, mesmerized by the intermittent freckles on the expanse of skin before me. Not thinking about what I was doing, I wrapped my hands around her ribcage as I massaged her back. And when my fingers brushed the sides of her breasts, she and I both gasped. Stupidly, I stopped massaging but kept my hands on her.

"I'm so sorry, Bella," I said quickly, before finally moving my hands down her ribs. _Fucking idiot!_ "I wasn't thinking…"

"Shhh," she shushed me again. "I know you didn't mean to." Her brown eyes searched me from her peripheral vision briefly, and then she closed her eyes again and relaxed. I couldn't believe I'd just copped a feel! _And you skipped first base. Fuck._ This was _not_ how I envisioned this going. But Bella seemed fine with it, so I shut myself off and focused on her. Sitting back on my heels like this provided me with an excellent view of her back, unfettered from clothing. She had a beautiful back, the muscles barely visible under the skin. The many hours of erging and working out had made her strong. I liked it. More than I should have.

As I reached her lower back, I realized maybe I should stop. Looking at her face, it seemed Bella was asleep - or at least, deeply relaxed. Should I keep going? Surely it would be completely wrong of me to put the towel off her body completely. Very wrong. But so right.

"Bella?" My voice was barely above a whisper. Nothing. After a moment of warring with myself, I eased off the bed and decided to work on her legs. Starting with her feet, I massaged my way up, reapplying the delicious-smelling lotion as needed. When I reached the apex of her thighs, I halted my progress, and moved to her arms. They were limp noodles, which made it easier to massage them, but it meant I had to rest each one in my lap as I worked. Having Bella's fingers that close to the physical manifestation of my frustration did not help matters. Once I'd finished - complete with a hand and finger massage - I gingerly placed her arm back on the bed and reluctantly covered her again with the towel. Then I sat on the other bed and watched her sleep.

"Mmmm…how long was I out for?" she asked sleepily after a few minutes, stretching her arms out over the edge of the bed. "That was…heavenly."

"Just a few minutes, I think," I answered. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I hope it helped relax you." Bella rolled onto her side to face me, clutching the towel against her. Leaning her head on her hand, she yawned at me and nodded.

"I should probably be going," she said, her eyes closing again. _Please stay._

"Okay." Slowly, she got off the bed and went into the bathroom to get dressed. A quick check of my watch confirmed that it was 10:45 - everyone would be returning from their night out. I insisted on walking her back to her room, and after saying goodnight, she shocked me by giving me a quick hug. Another "thank you" later and she was gone. Lumbering into my hotel room, I collapsed on the bed as another wave of melon-plum goodness assaulted my nostrils. _Definitely trouble. _

"Hey, Ed! Did ya miss me?" Emmett's voice shattered the quiet of the room instantly. "Wait - what is that fruity smell? You have a _girl_ in here, man? Or are you getting in touch with your femme side? Eddie's a fruit! Eddie's a fruit!"

After a night of restless sleep, the hotel wakeup call at 4 a.m. was _so_ not appreciated. We stumbled out of our rooms - somehow - showered, dressed and packed, and climbed into Coach's waiting van. Even though Emmett and the other guys in the four and novice boats weren't racing today, we did everything as a team. That was Carlisle's way.

Strangely, though I was haggard and cranky, Bella seemed serene and cheery. It was a welcome change and one for which I credited myself. Pushing the thought aside, I closed my eyes and told myself to focus. Unfortunately, closing my eyes just made it easier to picture a naked Bella. _Fuck._ Now _I_ was the one who needed to relax.

"You okay, Ed?" Jasper, observant as always, was right on my heels once we got out of the van. He stepped in front of me, effectively forcing me to meet his gaze. Like a damned doctor, he sized me up, a furrow appearing between his brows. Not good. Nothing escaped my friend's scrutiny. "Okay, something's up. Whatever it is, either tell me to get it off your chest, or swallow it down. This is our time, now, and we need you - all of you. Be here, not _here_." As he said that, he tapped my forehead.

"Right. Right!" I said, nodding and psyching myself up. "I can do this! We've got this, J!" Jumping seemed to help, too, though Jasper just fucking stared at me like he knew exactly what was in my head. That guy was just too damned perceptive for his own good. Now was not the time for thoughts of… My brain needed to be entirely devoted to the task at hand: winning this race today. I patted him on the shoulder and thanked him.

"No worries," he said, eyeing me as we approached the trailer and our boat. The officials were holding practice in 15 minutes for all of the crews racing that day, so we needed to walk the boat down to the docks. Bella ordered us to get **hands on**, and we set the shell in the water and stepped in on her command. A very small part of my brain registered that her voice seemed more forceful in her orders - good. If the source was confidence, she'd need plenty of it. We deftly paddled away from the dock and began our warm-up. After an hour, I felt thoroughly centered and ready - despite the person sitting in front of me. It was fine, though. We were both on a mission to win this: Bella for the pride, I was sure, and me for the sake of my balls - and my ego.

"All right, guys. We're gonna kick some ass today, right?" Bella's voice was demanding, and it registered below my waist immediately. Rowing with a boner? Not the most comfortable thing. I shuddered as I thought that at least I wasn't doing it naked. We all yelled in response, and Bella had us bring it back to the dock. Some of the luckier crews were racing right after the morning practice session, but we needed to get off the water until our heat. The suspense was always a killer. During the first heat, I paced the river's edge, working myself up as I usually did.

_You are the stroke master._

_You are a fucking rowing god._

_The boats do not matter. Names do not matter. The clock is all that matters today. And it is yours for the taking._

"Let's go! Varsity eight!" Suddenly, Coach was calling us. My heart instinctively leaped into my throat and thundered in my eardrums. Numbly I walked over to the shell - still covered in beads of river water from our practice a short time earlier - and put hands on. A light rain began to fall as we rolled it onto shoulders and then overhead when Bella commanded it. Through the throngs of coaches, trainers, rowers/bystanders and other crews, we navigated. The shell made a wet plopping noise as we set it gently on the river's surface, and I toed off my beat up sneakers. Once the oars were secured in their oarlocks and half of them extended, floating on the water, we waited for the command to put hands on and step in. With a quick check of our seat, and a hasty lacing of the shoes on our foot stretchers, all eight inspected oars and locks and counted off.

"Eight!" I yelled, signaling that all were ready. Bella adjusted her headset and zeroed out the stop clock on the cox box before ordering us to push off the dock and **paddle**. "You ready for this?" She looked up at me, and for the first time all morning, I saw a glimmer of panic in her brown eyes.

"You bet your sweet ass I am." Then she ordered the bow pair to begin rowing. Systematically she added pairs. "Okay, in two, seats three and four **fall in**." Then she got to stern pair - me and Mike. "Stern pair, in two, fall in." I could tell when we approached the start; Bella's eyes grew wide and she bit her lip so hard I was convinced she'd break the skin. An electronic beep coincided with Bella's command, "Pull!"

Eight bodies immediately sprung into action like coiled springs finally released. Bella drove us with the command to "pull" and give her "one hundred and twenty percent." The rain falling set a quiet peace over everything - a perfect contradiction to the action of our boat. Behind Bella's head I saw the Skidmore boat enter the race.

"Pull! Great! Keep it going! Lengthen it out, guys! Lengthen. Catch, drive, recovery," Bella's voice said over the speakers. "That's it. Drive with the legs, keep the back straight, then arms. **Down on** port. **Even pressure**. **Row on**!" The strong tone, low pitch and steady rhythm of the cox's voice guided us as to what was needed. Only she could see the end point - and where we were headed. But I could see the other boats behind us. And they were approaching.

"Guys, I've got us at a steady 28 now," Bella said, announcing the stroke rate. It wasn't fast enough. The race was 5,000 meters; I didn't want James catching up to us. Slowly, I increased my pace, knowing the others would follow.

"Edward, what are you doing?" she accused, pulling the mic away from her mouth so she wouldn't be overheard. When I didn't respond, she glared at me. "Keep the stroke rate down. You guys need to get through this race without killing yourselves. You can't sustain a 35 for more than a thousand meters!"

But Skidmore was coming after us. I didn't care. We could keep it up based on adrenaline alone. I'd seen it. I'd done it in shorter races. Bella didn't know us like I did. She didn't know what we were capable of.

"Yess," I hissed. "Call a PT!" Bella glared at me like she wanted to launch out of her seat and choke the shit out of me, but called for a **power ten** from the guys anyways. The boat and riggers groaned with the effort of our strokes, and I felt my hands go raw and then lost feeling as blood mixed with water against the rubber handle. I tuned out the noises of the guys behind me, and turned off the searing pain in my hands, joints and muscles. Bella tried once more to slow us down into a sustainable rhythm - so we could recover marginally, I supposed - but I ignored her and only backed off slightly. I could see the fucker's blonde head and could tell their cox was making a move. _Fuck._

"Cullen, stop now or I swear…" Bella's voice threatened, but I stared straight through her head as I raged on. Every pore in my body screamed for air; I ignored it. Behind me, the others were growing weary of the breakneck speed. Bodies were tiring, pushed to the brink of oxygen starvation and physical exhaustion. And then Bella's voice was back in my head. "Edward Cullen, if you do not want to fucking blow this race and injure your team, slow the hell down. Now."

The timing couldn't have been worse. As Bella was concentrating on me, she failed to see Skidmore advancing on our stern - or the URI boat that was now too close for comfort on our port side. At the last moment, Bella shifter her gaze and steered us from harm's way. But it was a costly mistake. There was a sudden flurry of too many oars and yelling coxswains.

"**Look ahead**!" Bella yelled to the Skidmore and URI boats, warning them of our presence, immediately followed by, "Blades in, port! **Blades in**!" One side slid the oars in, and it forced us to stop rowing, so that the inertia of one-sided rowing wouldn't capsize us. I watched in complete horror as both boats passed us. But Bella was jumping right back on the horse.

"Set it up, guys! Ready all - row!" We were off again, and this time, at Bella's desire stroke rate, but the crew was shaken by the near misses and Bella was more than angry with me. We weren't out of it, yet, and I told her to call out another few power tens. Without acknowledging my request, she called for a power ten. And then another. And another.

"In two, I want **AMF 10**!" she screamed. It hurt my ears. "In one, two, and _one_, send…two, send…three, send…four, send…five, send…six, send…seven, send…eight, send…nine, send…ten, send. _Again__**! **_Come on, guys - give me ten more! Show me you want this! Come on!"

Ten more strokes at 150 percent. Ten more torturous beats, paired with about 500 beats of my heart. Ten more seconds that felt like ten of the most painful ever lived. Ten counts of thinking I was most certainly going to die from this.

"Let it run, boys."

And then heaven.

The electronic beep was like choirs of angels as we sailed across the finish line. After it was over, a few guys puked into the river. I forced down the bile in favor of breathing. I knew without having to look behind me that all seven were slumped over their oars as their bumped over the water, coasting the boat to a stop. In the background, my ears recognized Bella's voice congratulating us. But it was fuzzy and garbled. _Kind of like the teacher from the Peanuts._

The current of the Charles River carried us a hundred meters or so before Bella ordered us to paddle to the docks at the end of the course. Collective groans washed through the boat; with raw hands and shredded muscles, the simple task was akin to climbing Mount Everest. Somehow, we managed to pull ourselves, and the boat, out of the water. After we'd secured the shell on the trailer, I walked off to find Coach - and our time.

"How _dare_ you pull that kind of shit!" Bella was in my face and pointing a hard little finger into my soaked chest. "I'm fucking appalled!"

"_You're_ appalled?" I asked, set off by the insinuation in her words. Something snapped inside; the words flowed, completely unchecked. "Next time, why don't you learn to control your boat, Bella? Don't go blaming all of that on me. You run the show out there - not me, little girl." Her eyes darkened as her anger flared into a forest fire.

"Oh, so was this your sick idea of a test? Was that it? Wanted to see how bossy I could be? I might be in charge out there, but you obviously had other plans," she seethed. "Next time, I will knock your arrogant ass out. Today I needed you to work with me, but your ego was too big for that. So fuck you, Edward Cullen."

"Oh, please, Bella," I quipped. _Obviously_, I was out of control. "Don't hide behind the 'woe is me' shit. If you'd wanted to, you could have controlled the situation. And you should have been paying attention to everything around us – not just making googley eyes at me. A good cox sees all, knows all. Guess we still have a lot of work to do."

Something like a growl bubbled up from Bella's throat, followed by the ugliest words in the most beautiful tongue. "Imbécile bite molle!" _"You limp-dicked fool!"_ And then the bitch punched me - hard. In the gut. I doubled over and proceeded to throw up all over my ratty shoes. "And don't you ever call me 'little girl' again, you prick." Then she marched off in the direction I'd been going. _Fuck._

A pair of new Adidas appeared in front of me as I attempted to gather the remnants of my stomach and my pride. Rosalie. This could only mean one thing.

"Well, asshat, looks like you got fucked a few times today," she said, staring down at me with her arms crossed over her chest. "Your time got you third place. Skidmore placed first. And it looks like I'll be seeing you…au natural…Monday morning, since our time was good enough for second in our heat." All I could do was sputter and wretch.

"And I'm glad Bella punched you," she added, smirking. "Maybe _now_ you'll learn."


	6. Chapter 6: Shirts and skins

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic. And thanks as always to Barbi, Megsly, Forever_Liz and Hez for letting me send them my rough drafts to get their skittles in return. _

_In this chapter, I've hidden a little ode to my pal, BellaFlan. See if you can find it, and after that, go read her crackfic Becoming Bella Swan. I love it. And her. Now, without further ado - enjoy!_

**Glossary of Terms:**

**Hands on** **– ****A command to grasp the boat by the gunnels in preparation to move it.**

**Skying the blade - **Coming to the catch with the blade too high above the surface of the water.

**Paddle** – a command to row lightly.

**(Number) fall in/out **– command telling the rower(s) either to stop or start rowing with everyone else. The number indicated which seats should stop or start.

**Power Ten** – command for ten of the rowers' hardest strokes. Often used to pass another boat in a race.

**Scull** – a boat for a single rower or a pair of rowers. Each rower has two smaller oars, instead of one large.

**Chapter 6: **Shirts and skins

I'd lost. _We'd lost._ Now I had the odious task of facing the rest of my boat to tell them the news. Walking back to our camp, my hand holding my stomach, I convinced myself it had been Bella's fault. It was the cox's job, after all, to control the boat and everyone in it. Her shortcomings had led to our almost double-collision during the race, and that had led to our third place finish.

"It _was _her fault," I said aloud. "She lost control." _Sure Cullen,_ a sick little voice argued with me. _Whatever it takes to help you row – naked._ Grimacing, I reflected on the race, up until the near-disaster. She'd set our pace at a 28! A 28! There was no way in hell we would have placed third at that pace. Okay, so maybe a 45 stroke rate was a bit breakneck for a nearly 3-mile race, but come on! A race meant rowing harder than normal.

For all of the time Bella and I had been working together, we still hadn't gotten on the same page when it came to racing strategy. I envisioned us at odds: she the tortoise and me the cocky hare. _More appropriate than ever, given the outcome today._ Clearly, we needed to find a middle ground.

"But I wasn't the one in the wrong!" I exclaimed. Walking by other crews, talking to myself, they must have thought I had a nut loose. But I didn't care. Without warning, Mike Newton stepped in my path, and I nearly knocked him over. A quick look confirmed my unrealized fears - he was really fucking pissed.

"Cullen. A word." Three of them was all it took to make me want to hurl all over again. Mike and I had always gotten along. An easygoing guy, he and I had been stern pair all through our novice and varsity years. Hell, we practically finished each other's sentences at this point. I stopped and waited for the Bella-bashing to begin. I really didn't think we could afford to find and train a new cox. _Maybe Coach Carlisle has a backup…_

"That, back there" - he motioned to the river behind us like I could have forgotten it so soon - "was bullshit. I nearly broke my back out there for you, so you could have a battle of fucking wits with our cox! And before you give me some line about it being all on her, think again. I heard you arguing with her, man! She was trying to do her thing, and you were trying to kill us. Are you trying to sabotage our senior year? 'Cause that's the only thing that makes an iota of fucking sense!"

I was aghast. Mike wasn't mad at Bella at all. Did the others feel this way?

"Mike, I'm sorry _you_ feel like I was -"

"No. I'm not the only one," he said, cutting me off. "Tyler, Eric, Demetri…even Jasper…we all know it wasn't Bella." That statement registered like another gut-punch. "You'd better think long and hard about the consequences of your actions, Ed. Otherwise, rowing naked isn't the only pain you're going to suffer this year."

Well, what a love-fest this had turned out to be. Not only had we lost - and against Skidmore and my rowing nemesis, no less - but now we were going to have to row naked and my team was doubly pissed at me for all of it, and for how I'd argued with Bella. And god only knew what she had in store for me. _So many possible methods of torture, so little time._

"Is that a threat, Newton?" I spat back, my defenses up. I couldn't believe our first race of the season with Bella as our coxswain had come to this. Maybe it was time Coach and I had a talk about her future on our team. She was tearing the team apart.

"No, Cullen. It's just a fact," Mike said. "I speak for the boat when I say that we're not going to watch you destroy what we've worked so hard to achieve. If you can't get over your crush or whatever it is you have with Bella, we'll see about removing the problem."

I nodded and then gagged on my spit. "_Crush_? I do not have a fucking crush, Newton. Get over it. Fine. I was thinking I'd go talk to Coach about Bella –"

"Not Bella," Mike said, again interrupting me. "You. We like Bella. We think she's a good cox."

My brain fumbled around in the dark, looking for words to formulate a retort. For some reason, it was awfully dark and empty up there.

"Me? You're going to get me kicked off or something?" My voice squeaked as I tried to process the idea. "_I'm_ the problem?" Mike just stood there and shrugged, as if he suddenly had no control over any of it. I was having an out-of-body experience, and was desperate to backpedal. "I like Bella, too. I just think she needs more practice."

"Then we'll help her," Mike said. "And if you truly _like_ her, you should act like it." He walked toward the other guys, leaving me at a loss and more than mortified. I glanced to my right to see Bella talking with Coach. _And the hits just keep coming._ Occasionally she'd look down, wring her hands, and then look at me. She must have heard the exchange between me and Mike. I could only guess what they were discussing.

Surprisingly, Coach didn't ask to speak to me, which only served to make me feel like an even bigger piece of shit. And the ride back to Providence was excruciating. Bella refused to sit next to me, instead picking a seat between Jasper and Mike. And I could only imagine what Jasper was going to say when we got back to our house. But even he said nothing. This was _really_ bad. I went to bed early, too exhausted and dejected to eat or watch TV. I wanted this day to be over.

I was awake before my alarm the next morning. After rousing Emmett and Jasper for practice, we silently piled into my Volvo for the drive. Distant church bells tolling sounded more like a funeral march than the herald of the hour. I felt like a man on death row.

_Rowing naked. _Could there possibly be anything more degrading in the sport of rowing? In _any_ sport, for that matter? I thought not. As we pulled into a parking spot, I swore I felt glares and daggers being thrown at me as others arrived. But all I could think of was my junk, less than a foot from Bella. _Fuck me._ How the hell was I going to function naked, for one, and two, with Bella staring at me? Suddenly, I was feeling bad for both of us. _Maybe this was my penance._

"All right, losers, gather 'round!" Rosalie's voice was nails on a chalkboard. Where was Coach? Was he really going to let this happen? I looked everywhere, but he seemed to be missing. Figured. "You know the deal: you lost, you pay." Rose and the other girls from the women's eight stood at the end of the dock. Bree was waiting for them, her hands on the stern of their shell, but even she sported a devilish smile. Rose continued as I shivered. "I'm gonna be nice and let you strip down here after you bring your boat down. No sense in anyone getting frostbite on their bits and pieces, right? And guys? We'll be watching!"

The girls all burst into fits of laughter, wiping away tears as we guys tried to keep our dignities intact - for the time we had left, anyway. Slowly, we trudged into the boathouse and waited for Bella to give the commands to bring it out and down to the dock. For her part, she looked as pleased with the concept of naked rowing as us. But she didn't talk to me or even look at me. I supposed I deserved it. No one else was really talking to me, actually.

"Okay, guys, hands on," she said dully. "Ready and roll, and right onto shoulders. Let's walk it out." The boat seemed heavier than usual. My hands started sweating when we reached the end of the dock, and when Bella told us to roll it and place it in the water, I nearly lost my grip altogether. Once a few of the guys had gotten the oars and all eight were in their oarlocks, Rose yelled from the river.

"Time to drop trow, boys! Let's see asses and elbows!" With a collective groan, we all stripped down and anxiously awaited Bella's command to step into the boat. It really sucked that we had to wait for her, too; she seemed to be having trouble with the command.

"Um…er…on two…he, he…okay, get in. No – shit! Okay, hands on…" When we crouched down, she started coughing. "Umm…step in and down." Finally! Though this was no improvement for me. Once Bella had situated herself in the cox's seat, her gaze dropped into my lap. Damn it, it was fucking cold and I was feeling less-than-confident. Of course, this _would_ _be_ the first meeting between Bella and my cock. And why was I thinking about it like there would be any meetings at all, or future meetings, for that matter? And then, completely unannounced and uninvited, naked Bella made an appearance. Bad fucking timing.

"All right, guys, let's…" Her eyes went straight for the now-obvious rowing hindrance I sported. And the blush was back. And _I _was blushing right along with her. Then her eyes flashed to mine and anger shone through the pink in her cheeks. I was simultaneously turned on and frightened. "Let's paddle and I'll add you in. Ready all, row."

_Row? Sure. No problem. I'll just try to shift myself out of harm's way with my thighs and ignore your proximity and attempt to ignore the cold and the water and the wind. Oh, and while I'm at it, I won't think about my ball sac dangling precariously close to the rollers. And my dick caught painfully between my legs on the drive. Or how it hangs free when I'm at the catch, which is the point when I'm closest to you. And you can totally see my hard on. Sure, Bella. Just row._

Thankfully, _I guess_, she let us all get our bearings. As it turned out, there was some bit of literal and figurative adjusting to rowing in the nude. Mike occasionally poked me in the back with the handle of his oar, just to let me know he was not at all happy about the situation.

"Okay, in two, stern pair fall out," Bella said. _Thank you._ "One, two, stern pair out." By twos, she had us stop rowing, until Jasper and Tyler let it run, leaving us to coast on the Seekonk in our birthday suits.

"Smile for the camera, ladies!" Jess screeched from launch, as the women's boat rowed past us with Esme and Jess in tow, motoring in the launch a few paces back. Another group of groans from the guys reverberated through the fiberglass shell, but Bella remained stoic and stone-faced.

Whether it was mercy for all of us, or just the seven behind me, she made sure we kept going that morning so that the sweat on our bodies wouldn't chill. Jess continued to document our utter humiliation, while Rose and the others went through their practice with grins plastered to their faces. Esme tried and failed not to laugh at us a few times. Coach Carlisle, apparently, was leaving this practice to Bella. His launch, I could see, was still tethered to the dock at the boathouse.

And the constant rowing - catch, drive, recovery and again - dulled my mind enough so that I wasn't consumed by the idea of being naked in front of this girl. This girl who did funny things to my guts and made my brain and mouth misfire like a shorted electrical outlet. This girl who was equal parts stubborn, gutsy and shy, vulnerable. This girl who I'd pushed aside for my own selfish pride. _And now look at you, asshole. Forced to row naked because you - and you alone - lost a bet that should have been easy to win. How's that for karma? _I had to give it to that little voice in my head - he was spot-on. Unfortunately, it had taken until now for me to realize it.

"Fuckin' shit," I gasped as the handle of my oar squished my cock as I leaned back on a stroke. I'd dipped my handle too low, of course, skying my blade and nearly catching a crab in the process. What a goddamn mess.

Maybe I should say something. Was it advisable, though, to apologize to Bella while in this rather compromising position? What the hell? My pride was pretty much decimated at this point; what would a naked apology do to further emasculate my stupid ass?

"Bella." Her eyes focused on mine and the anger was still there. Oh, was it ever. She'd reacted to her name on my lips as if I'd called her a dirty word. "I'm sorry." It was a start - a rather inadequate one, but still. And it had no effect on her hardened expression.

"Fuck you, Cullen," she said, this time not bothering to pull the microphone away from her mouth. So the entire fucking boat had just heard her say that. _Super._ I could have sworn I heard a "whoop" of support from the bow. I growled in defeat. Whatever. _Just row and let's get this practice over with ASAP._

"All right, guys. Give me a power ten," she snapped. I gaped at her in disbelief. So much for her going easy on us. As Bella glared at me, she continued. "Okay, in two. One…two. Power ten!" I stood corrected: doing ten of your hardest strokes while someone else watched with wicked glee was the worst thing about rowing naked. And I was most definitely going to need some powder, ice and Desitin for the chafe that would result. Whimpering behind me suggested we'd all need some.

"Give me another! Come on! Power ten – and one!" Bella yelled. I nearly fucking passed out. She was trying to kill us. Maybe just me, and the others were a bonus. Or at least kill our ability to reproduce…or even practice it! At this rate, it would take me a week to walk normally again. I vowed that if I made it out of this practice from hell alive and with my junk intact, I'd make it my mission to never piss Bella off again. _If._

Just as I thought my balls would retract into my stomach and my dick simply fall off from the trauma, Bella ordered us to paddle back into the dock. All eight of us breathed long and hard from exertion and relief. I could have kissed Bella for finally ending the torture…and thrown her in the river for punishing all of us to start. Thankfully, Rose and the girls allowed us to get dressed before taking the boat in; no one would mistakenly lose their manhood in the process of hauling out of the water and walking it into the boathouse.

"Guys, before you head into the weight room, let's discuss the Charles race." Carlisle's voice echoed off the rafters in the boathouse. When we groaned, he added, "Don't wanna hear it. Bring it in." Once we gathered, Coach didn't pull any punches. Much to my fucking chagrin.

"You all know what happened this weekend, and I think you all know where changes and adjustments need to be made before you race again," he said. The guys nodded. And then he looked right at me. "The only other thing I'm going to say is that the time to be pissed off is _during_ the race - when you can do something about it. Nothing can be done now. Let it go. The key to racing, guys, is to come off that water regretting _nothing_."

Leave it to Carlisle to drive the nail home. Of course, the day of the race, I'd left my brain behind, and with it, all of the words of wisdom that he'd imparted to me - to all of us - over the last three-plus years. Most of it was stuff you'd expect to find on a t-shirt: rowing is life; pull harder, faster, longer; winning a race is your realization of the burning desire not to be beaten; pain is the point where most give up – rowers keep going. Blah, blah, blah. But there had been many more times when his speeches had hit us right where we lived. I remembered one, in particular, with perfect clarity:

"I ask the eight of you: why do you row? Why put yourselves through the months of pain and suffering, the blood, sweat and aches, in training for a wicked hellish thirty minutes that will nearly kill you? Have you _ever_ asked yourself that? Are there _any_ of you who would not hesitate to punish yourself - sacrifice everything, and more - for that moment? For that instant when incredible agony transforms into the sweetest relief? For victory…or even loss? This is life, boys. The race. And you must turn over your physical bodies - and your souls - to the pursuit. If it's anything less, there's the door."

It was as true now as it was then, a few weeks after I'd joined the team. Whether or not Coach gave that speech to all the guys had always been irrelevant. Rowing was the oxygen in my lungs, the food in my body and the love I had for it was the power in my stroke. Life and rowing were interchangeable terms, to me. I never felt more alive than when I was gliding over that water, part of something bigger than I was. And truthfully, even in defeat I always knew I'd accomplished something most would never even have the gumption to dream about. Fuck it; this was my senior year – the last one I'd have to make my mark and try for a seat on the U.S. Olympic Team. In the process, I wanted to bring my team to victory in every other race and regatta we'd compete in this year. And I needed Bella's help to get there.

Suddenly, I was aware of my teammates leaving, and silence from Carlisle. Fuck. I'd missed whatever else he'd said when I got all nostalgic. He and I stood a few feet apart, staring at each other. I had an overwhelming sense of dread.

"Edward, you good?" he asked me. His face betrayed nothing. Coach would have been an excellent poker player, I decided. I shook my head. _Nope. I'm good. Got a lot of work to do - and shit to undo, if I can. But we're good._ As if he'd read my mind, Carlisle smiled uneasily and added, "Okay. Go get to work, then."

My first step was joining the guys in the weight room. Half were erging while the others used the weight machines and spotted each other. When I sat down on the seat of the erg farthest from the door, Jasper and Mike and Tyler stopped their erg piece and turned to me. The noisy whir of the erg's wheels filled the air, along with the grunts and stilted talk of the others on the weights. It was one, giant, testosterone-filled pregnant pause. Jasper spoke first.

"Wanna join us for an erg test?" A simple, seemingly benign gesture that, coming from him, meant much more. I shrugged but nodded. The others looked at me warily but smiled a bit, and we all set our ergs for a 2,000 meter test. As in the boat, I led them in this as well, occasionally calling out words of encouragement and calling for power tens when needed. It was only after we finished - all four of us folded over ourselves in exhaustion - that I noticed Bella was nowhere to be seen. It felt…wrong. Checking my watch, I thanked the guys for the workout, motioned to Jasper that I needed to get to my first class, and waited for Emmett to finish before we headed home.

This time, the ride home was silent, but not dreadfully so. Things with the other guys would work out, I knew. There was no time for me to obsess about Bella, or where she'd disappeared to; besides, I was sure our practice had traumatized her. She was probably rocking in a corner somewhere, talking about pink elephants or something. But I needed to get my ass in gear ASAP, and my Econ class was, in my opinion, just a distraction. I took a seat in the back of the room and immediately texted Jasper.

_**Hey, J. Need a huge favor, pls. Can u send me Alice and Bella's dorm info? Need 2 grovel bigtime. Want to do it in person. Thx.**_

I hoped my honesty would also help repair things between him and me. Even though he'd talked to me this morning, it wasn't anything close to a get out of jail free card. A few minutes later, I got my answer.

_**Hegeman Hall (corner of George and Thayer Sts), rm 114. Good luck. Grovel hard. Oh, and Alice wants 2 talk to u before.**_

Unlike other universities, Brown encouraged on-campus living, and Emmett, Jasper and I had practically had to sign over the deeds to our parents' homes to get permission to live in one of the older houses in the five-mile vicinity of the campus. College Hill, on the East Side of Providence was like a cozy, posh, old-world neighborhood, though. Totally worth the effort.

_Shit. Alice._ My brain finally processed the last bit of Jasper's text. Deciding to do the Band-Aid maneuver, however, I sent her a text as well. Hopefully she'd opt not to castrate me. Surely, she'd seen the side effects of my efforts first-hand by now. With my sore muscles and sorer dick clenching in anticipation, I typed out another message and hit "send."

_**Alice – pls, need 2 spk 2 Bella. About this weekend. Me being an ass. Asking for her 2 forgive me. U ok w/me coming over?**_

Her response was as quick and surprising as a lightning strike. And maybe, just as deadly.

_**No, not ok. U have no idea. U r an ass, 4 sure, and much more. B doesn't want 2 see u. I'll get back 2 u.**_

Fuck. Economics now completely ignored, I sat and stewed. How could I get Bella to talk to me? She couldn't ignore me forever, though she'd managed to cox this morning _and_ not talk to me pretty successfully. Shit. I needed another plan. The clock dragged for the next forty minutes; in fact, I was convinced it was ticking backwards every few minutes, just to fuck with me. Finally, we were dismissed, and I ran for the back door to the lecture hall.

_**A – is she home now? Pls. I need 2 see her.**_ The silence on my phone almost killed me. Finally, Alice replied.

_**Yes. She doesn't have class until 1:30. But I haven't decided if I'm gonna let u go.**_

_**Srry, Alice, but I need 2 do this. Thx.**_

My phone frantically buzzed in my pocket twice more, but I was already running. From here, I could make it to Bella's dorm from Robinson Hall in twenty minutes - fifteen if I cut across the greens at a full sprint. When I arrived at my destination, I was sweaty, winded and wishing I hadn't needed to throw half my books in my bag this morning. My thighs were burning as I pushed the intercom button to Bella's room. No answer.

"Bella! It's Edward. Please let me up." Two more buzzes and still nothing. Maybe she wasn't there. Maybe she was in the shower. Maybe she was ignoring me. As my legs gave out, having already been sore from practice this morning, I slid down the wall of the building and onto my ass. With my ridiculously long arms, I could keep pressing the buzzer while I waited for someone to come out.

Ten damn minutes later, and my butt was falling asleep against the concrete. You'd think students would be coming in and out of the dorm with frequency on a Monday. Didn't these people have classes to go to? I stopped pressing the damn buzzer because like my ass, my finger was losing sensation.

I began to think this would require some detective work on my part – and maybe some stalking – when a flurry of white legs and orange backpack nearly tripped over me on the way out the door. There was a curse, an "oof" and sneakers getting tangled up between my legs. Instinctively, I reached up to cradle the falling person, and to save myself from an injury. The person ended up in my lap, somehow, and I blinked a few times.

Bella. She'd literally fallen into my arms. It was difficult not to laugh. But comedy was the last thing on my mind when she realized who she'd tripped over. Scrambling to get away from me, Bella nearly punched me in the face. And when she finally stood up, she assessed me in my pathetic state on the ground.

"You're sweaty," she said. _Uh, yeah. _

"Uh, yeah," I repeated aloud. "I…ran over here." She looked at me quizzically for a moment. Without the blush, she was impossible to read. So I stayed where I was. Silence.

"Bella, I just wanted -"

"Edward, I gotta go -"

We both began at the same time, and then both cut ourselves off with a "what?" to the other. More silence. I got to my feet. Someone needed to take the first step.

"Bella, I had to see you," I said. She looked surprised. Still pissed, too, though it had been muted a bit by something. "I know this is nowhere near to being enough, but I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for this weekend. I was out of line and out of my damn mind. And I'd really like it…if you would let me make it up to you."

She bit her lip. I tried to subtly adjust my suddenly fucking shrinking pants. "I don't know, Edward. I was talking to Coach this morning…about maybe leaving the team."

"What?" I choked and sputtered. _Leaving?_ "Bella, you can't leave. We need you. I_…I_ need you. Give me time. Please. Don't leave because of me." Bella looked at me - really looked at me - and then looked at her feet. And bit her lip again. Slowly, color bloomed on her cheeks and across her nose. _This_ was the girl I knew.

"Why, Edward?" she asked, her gaze sharp and hard again, eyes flashing with anger. "I've given you…you guys…everything I have. It doesn't work. It's not enough. What else is there?"

_There's your heart._ I ignored the voice that seemed to be coming from my chest. All that mattered to me right now was working like hell to undo the very obvious damage I'd inflicted. My cox needed to be sure of her rightful place. My boat needed its cox. It was a simple equation. We didn't work without her.

"But I haven't given you all of _me_," I replied. And I hadn't. Not even half. "And it's not fair to you. If you're out there, for us, giving 120 percent, I'm going to be right there with you, giving my 120 percent. You and I are a team, Bella. A smaller part of that whole. You belong with us. You belong with me. An indestructible duo. Coach chose you because he saw something, and I believe him. I'm sorry I didn't trust you enough to let you prove it."

I kept going, fear driving me on. "Bella, give me a day. Two days. Let me show you how much you mean to us." _To me._ "If you're not convinced, I'll accept the blame for your leaving, and face the consequences. But don't let my actions yesterday be the thing that brings you regret. Please."

"Okay." One word was the key to my salvation. But there was much work to be done. It was a start, though, and I clung to the dim hope like it was a life raft in the endless sea.

"Okay. Meet me today, after class? What time do you get out?" Hopefully, she didn't have a late lecture or anything. Sunset arrived early at this time of year.

"Today, I only have one. I'm done at 2:30," she said. "Where? What time?"

"At the boathouse, of course," I said. "Meet me at 3:15, please. I'm going to take you out in the scull."

_A/N: Okay, gang…how was it? Did you envision naked Strokeward? Hope so. It gave me giggles to write it. Now, don't worry about Bella falling into Edward's clutches too fast. She's a spitfire and not one to easy trust someone like E who's done her wrong. He can kiss ass as much as he wants, but he's got a long way to go. Thank you so much for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7: Setting the pace

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic. And thanks as always to Barbi, Megsly, Forever_Liz and Hez for letting me send them my rough drafts to get their skittles in return. Okay, kids, we're on the seventh chapter, so let's try to see how we do without the glossary. __I went easy on you this time with the vocab. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 7**: Setting the pace

Yeah, I was going to need more than one or two days. Much more.

This became clear when 3:15 came and went, and I was waiting outside the boathouse - alone. At first, I thought traffic - or Alice - had kept her. But when 3:45 rolled around and then 4 laughed in my face like a drunken frat boy, I knew she'd stood me up. I'd foolishly assumed that Bella couldn't possibly resist the juicy apple I'd presented her in sculling on the Seekonk. Apparently, her anger ran much deeper than that river. Or her desire to row. With me.

The text from Alice sealed the deal at 4:15: _**Srry, but no date today. U fucked up good.**_

_Awesome, Alice. As if I hadn't figured it out on my own. _Sighing, I resigned myself to a solo workout and decided to take out my frustrations on the Concept 2. After three, 2,000-meter pieces and lots of yelling and grunting, I collapsed on myself, falling off the erg and onto the mat-covered floor.

"Jesus, Ed. You trying to commit death by erging?" I shifted my cheek on the rubber floor to meet Emmett's gaze. I must have looked rather pathetic. Instead of calling me a "sackless wonder" or a "noodley assclown," he strode into the gym and picked my ass off the floor. Once I was seated on the erg again, he stood back and crossed his arms across his Volkswagon-sized chest.

"So…rowing in the nude sucks, doesn't it," he said. It wasn't a slam - just small talk. I nodded and winced. "I wish Rose gave enough of a shit to bet me. I don't even care what it is. I'd wager her the sky was red if it meant that by losing, I'd get to be close to her."

Emmett didn't surprise me often, but occasionally, he fucking blew my mind. I knew he had a thing for her, but still, hearing him put words to his infatuation gave me a new respect for the guy. He knew me well enough to expect sarcasm and jokes, but I couldn't do that to him. He was obsessed - and didn't think the ardor was going to be reciprocated.

"Em, have you asked her out? Maybe you just need to take the plunge," I suggested. "You know how Rose is. She's…like a Cadbury egg - hard on the outside, but gooey inside."

"And 100 percent delicious," Emmett added. Maybe the food analogy wasn't the best idea. But it worked. "You're right. I'm gonna ask her out, then, but not in an unusual way. Got any ideas?"

"You serious? Me? Dude, my game consists of…well, come to think of it, I don't really have a game, per se," I said. A manwhore, I most certainly was not, but I'd never really had to try. Most girls thought crew was mysterious and intriguing, and the shirtless gig usually worked, too. And I'd hooked up with Jess a few times; that had been like shooting trout in a barrel. Lately, though, the whole "not having a game" thing had presented a problem. I had no idea how to win Bella. _Win? She's not a giant stuffed panda you get at the fair for popping the balloon with the water pistol._

"How's it going with Bella?" Emmett asked, like he could read my mind. The look on my face must have sufficed for an answer. "Not so good? Keep trying. Failure is _not_ an option." He smirked at his own lame joke.

"Ha. Thanks, jackass," I said sarcastically. "She told me she was going to quit the team. I've fucked things up royally."

"She wouldn't quit," Emmett replied. He seemed damn sure of himself, which only meant one thing: he knew something I didn't. "You're an asshole, sure, but…anyways, she wouldn't do that. Bella would kick your ass out of the boat before that ever happened."

"Okay, McCarty - spill your beans. What's Bella's deal? Why does rowing mean so much to her?" Suddenly, I realized the answer might be the key to repairing the rift between us. I had to know what made her tick. But the monkey only shook his head. _Fucker._

"Ask her yourself," he said. "But start with Alice. I doubt she'll even let you within 50 feet of Bella right now. Keep trying, though, whatever you do. Bella's good people. And you need her."

_Thanks, Captain Obvious._ "No shit, Emmett. Without her, I have no boat and the eight of us go nowhere," I said, feeling the weight of the season resting squarely on my shoulders. "Without her, no racing, no winning and no…well, no to lots of things."

Emmett shook his head and smiled at me like he was trying to explain the Big Bang Theory to a first-grader. "No, _you_ needBella. You. Now go talk to Alice. She's downstairs. Later, bitch." He all but pushed me out of the weight room and to my death - AKA - talking with Alice, which forced me to ignore his comment. When I found her, she was cleaning the river muck off the hull of the men's four. I cleared my voice to dislodge my heart, and she turned around.

"Look, it wasn't my idea for Bella to stand you up today - just for the record," she started. "Though I was totally in support of her decision. You can't treat her like a yo-yo, Edward. One of these days the string is going to snap. And you'll be left with no yo-yo and some useless thread."

"I get it, Alice - really, I do," I said, eager to cut off her analogy. "I've apologized and am now _trying_ to demonstrate, through my actions, that I want to patch things up between us and help her trust me again. But how can I do that, _Alice_, if she won't even show up? Am I supposed to be apologizing to you, too?"

"Don't get bitchy with me, mister," she scolded. "I'm just trying to protect Bella. You really hurt her, and I don't want her to get invested, only to have her hopes and heart crushed. Coxing - crew - is Bella's life now, and you basically told her she sucked at it. How would _you_ feel if someone took this away from you?"

_I'd die a little - okay, a lot - inside._ "Fuck, I know. I didn't mean to, but I know that's what I did by not trusting her out there," I admitted. "Alice, I'm trying to fix it. But please know that I would never hurt her hopes or her heart. They're not mine to crush. I just need for Bella to give me a chance to show her I won't make the same mistake twice. She deserves so much more than what she got last weekend. _Please_. I need your help."

Alice let me explain my plans for making it up to my cox, and eventually she relented and agreed to persuade Bella to see me. I was still convinced that sculling would be a perfect way to show her my trust, and it might even get her to open up a little. Today had been a disaster, but Alice promised she'd get Bella to the boathouse tomorrow at the same time.

"Don't worry - I'll handle her women's studies professor," Alice said with a wry smile. I didn't even want to know. "It's her last class, and I'll make sure she gets down here, even if I have to drive her myself. Just don't screw this up, Cullen. This is a one-shot deal." Oh, and didn't I know it. With thoughts swirling in my head, I drove toward home. Showering, shaving and trimming my hair only ate up an hour, so I began pacing to pass the time. Emmett's comments rattled around my head like a few pennies in an empty coffee can. What the fuck was he talking about? What did he know about Bella? Could I do this? And which _did_ come first: the chicken or the egg?

"You're gonna wear out the floor pacing like that." I stopped as I passed the small kitchen table, where Jasper was seated. I hadn't even heard him come home. It had gotten dark. My stomach grumbled.

"Hey," I said. "Wanna order out tonight? I didn't make anything." Jasper nodded and dialed the number for Pizza Pie-er. Emmett came through the door like a bull, huffing and sweaty, having ridden home on his bike. Someday, he was going to have to get his damn car fixed. Once the pies arrived, we ate in relative silence. Emmett was apparently endeavoring to see just how much pizza he could fit in his mouth at once and Jasper seemed content to watch in disgust.

Neither of them said much, but that suited me. I was much too preoccupied with thoughts of the one person who seemed to be on my mind constantly of late. After two hours of studying, when my eyes had glazed over and my poli sci book failed to provide me with the secrets of the universe - and the key to Bella's forgiveness - I officially gave up and flopped onto my bed. As I stared at the cracked ceiling, I marveled at how one action could domino, knocking into one after another, until all of them fell down.

"Hey, man. Things will work out. With Bella," Jasper said from my doorway.

"Thanks. I hope so," I said. "I wasn't trying to screw everyone over. I wasn't thinking."

"I know," he replied. Then he left me alone. I rolled over and turned out the light. All this thinking had been exhausting. That and the beating I'd given myself on the erg. As sleep dragged me under, I thought, tomorrow would be better. It had to be. I'd make sure of it.

"Dude, we're out of Lucky Charms," Emmett complained as sugary dust poured from the now-empty cereal box and into his milk. He rifled through the cabinets and found some Cheerios to supplement his breakfast.

"Well, I'm not your momma, so go get more," I spat. Another night of tortured sleep had left me cranky. And I was expecting more punishment on the river, courtesy of one Isabella Swan; this did not improve my foul mood.

"Who pissed in your Cheerios, Ed?" he said. "Wasn't me. I like cereal too much."

"He's just mad because Bella all but took out a restraining order against him," Jasper supplied. _So…apparently the pep talk is over. _I growled at him, so he added, "Not that I could blame her. She's seen him naked now. Fun's over."

"Fuck you," I said through gritted teeth. "She's seen your pasty ass too, you know."

"Yeah, well I don't need to impress anyone but Alice, and I've never gotten any complaints from her," Jasper retorted as he got up from the table. Had Bella been disgusted by the naked rowing? I hadn't given it much thought, but that was mostly out of self-preservation; the idea of Bella having stared at my cock and balls for two hours made them shrivel up. We'd all been naked, but then again, I'd been front and center as star of the peep show. _And what a fucking peep show that must have been._ I rolled my eyes.

"You think it grossed her out? I mean, do you think it was too much for her, seeing me on display like that?" I asked them, suddenly obsessed with the idea. Not like my girth and length were anything to be ashamed of; and I'd even managed a woody at one point. _Wait - why does any of this matter? _Shaking my head to dislodge the question, I realized my roommates were staring at me.

"Dude," Emmett said to Jasper, elbowing him. "He likes her." Jasper nodded knowingly.

"_What_? Who? Wait…huh?" My brain couldn't comprehend their exchange.

"You. Like. Bella." Emmett crossed his arms, obviously pleased with himself and his apparent epiphany. When I started to protest, he added, "Why else would you care? We do stupid shit like that all the time. But the look on your face says it all. You _care_ what she thinks of you. And I bet it's eating at you right now that she can't stand you. Admit it."

"Come on, assholes," I grumbled. "We're gonna be late for practice."

Somehow, Bella managed another practice practically ignoring me. It had become an art form in avoidance and annoyance. _Fucking awesome._ She wouldn't even let me ask her about the no-show…or our meeting that afternoon, which turned my stomach into a rubber band ball of nerves. Each time I got remotely within earshot, she'd find someone to buffer herself with - usually Coach - or Alice would distract me. It seemed ridiculously high school, but still effective. At the end of the two hours, I hadn't managed a word in edgewise.

My classes sucked that day; I got called on more often than usual, which probably had something to do with the fact that I wasn't paying an iota of attention. All I could think about was how much weighed on my sculling with Bella that afternoon. Which did absolutely nothing for my concentration, and wreaked havoc on my intestines.

As I pulled into my parking spot in front of the boathouse, my heart seemed content to rest in my throat. Why couldn't I just calm down? Fucking hell. Because, of course, the banana was already out of the peel. The monkey sprung from his cage. And for some reason, I was convinced Bella would _know_ - that I would be found out. Besides, Emmett was right: she couldn't stand me. _No need to even think about it, Cullen._

I looked up as I approached the door. Bella leaned against it, her arms crossed defensively across her chest. Since words would only ruin the picture, I smiled weakly and let my eyes roam her form. Her running shoes were double knotted; and despite the November chill, her legs were bare, save for the navy blue shorts she wore over Under Armor spandex. The well-worn, gray Brown sweatshirt - despite being several sizes too big - flattered her curves and emphasized her shapely legs. It hung off one shoulder, and I marveled at the delicate clavicle it exposed. Again, her hair was swept off her neck in a messy ponytail. I saved her face for last. It was my pleasure and pain in one: pleasure in the gentle curve of her jaw, her full bottom lip, the slight upturn of her nose, those big, brown eyes; pain in the expression those features wore.

"Hi," I said finally, afraid that anything more would scare her off.

"Hi." Bella chewed on her lower lip, like she was debating just that: fight or flight.

"Listen, I'm trying to make it up to you -"

"I know," she interrupted. "I get that." She moved away from the door and started walking back and forth, but not moving inside. "How did I get myself into this? Of all the stupid things… What was I thinking? Why did I let it happen? This is a distraction…" Then she launched into a surge of French that even I couldn't keep up with, like a beautiful torrent from a water fountain. After a few moments, I had to intervene.

"Bella…can we go inside?" I asked softly, hoping to get through to her through her ranting. "It's cold out here. You must be cold, I mean. We'll warm up fast…once we get on the river." My voice seemed to cut through the rant. She walked inside without waiting for me, and I followed silently. The heart of the boathouse, where all the boats and oars were kept, was quiet. The shells laid in wait, eager to be used, while the oars stood sentry by the bay door. It was my only comfort; despite this being home to me, I was completely out of my element with Bella.

"So, what are we doing here, Edward?" she asked, not bothering to hide the frustration in her voice. Man, she really wasn't going to make this easy at all.

"I told you, Bella. I'm going to take you out in one of the sculls," I said.

"No, Edward. I mean, what are we doing here? Why are you doing this?"

Well, that one threw me a bit. But the answer tumbled out of my mouth before I had the chance to consider it. "You said you wanted to do this. I thought it…might be nice."

"You remembered?" she asked, her expression softening infinitesimally.

"I remember everything you say, Bella," I admitted. And then, seeing a glimmer of an opportunity, I gathered my courage. "And you were right about…everything. I'm trying to make it…better. Will you let me? Please?"

"Which blades are we using?" she asked me. _Okay. Baby steps. But at least she's agreeing to go with me. _

"Your favorite," I quipped with a smile. "And we each get two. We use the smaller hatchet blades - over there. If you bring those down to the dock, please, I'll grab the boat." Once the scull was happily bobbing in the water and the oars were secured in their locks, Bella stood on the edge of the dock, obviously waiting for some direction.

"You'll sit in my seat today," I offered. "And I'll let you set the pace. You're stroke today, Bella." She seemed to love this idea, and climbed into the seat eagerly. While she held the boat to the dock, I quickly sat down and tied my feet into the footstretchers. We both put on headsets that would allow us to communicate with each other, and with a soft nudge against the dock with our oars, we were adrift and free.

"Bella, when you're ready, try a few strokes to get acquainted with your oars, and I'll set the boat," I said. She nodded and after a heartbeat or two, I watched her backside move forward on the seat, the blade of the oars coming closer to me as she prepared to dip them into the water. I held my breath. She raised her hands and the blades sliced through the water and plowed forward as her body returned to its previous position. Three more times Bella repeated the feat; three more times I watched, transfixed.

While her initial stroke had been shaky and uneven, the two following it were poetry. In one smooth, continuous movement she slid away and brought the oars back toward me. They disappeared with a quiet, wet _plunk_ into the dark water and then we jerked backwards with the force of her drive as her sinewy legs extended, her arms bent as she pulled, she reclined herself closer to me and then sprang the blades from the water.

"Your form is impeccable," I offered by way of encouragement when she finished and set the oars to skip along the surface of the river. In truth, I was astonished at it. No one who'd never rowed before could be _that_ good.

"Thanks," her voice sounded in my ears with a soft crackle of the audio system. "I've been practicing. In the tanks."

"Wow. Amazing," I murmured, more to myself.

Silence, and then she spoke. "I…I had a good teacher."

There it was - Bella had provided me with an open window. With flaking paint, sagging sash and cracked glass, but I could fix that. Had to. _Slowly._ For a few moments, I said nothing in reply, but adjusted my grip on the oars in my lap and began a gentle paddle. With just enough force to move us with the current, we surged slowly toward the mouth of the river.

Just me and Bella. Stoke and cox. Guy and girl.

"Thanks, Bella," I finally said softly. "It means a lot." Instead of answering me, she twisted her torso around to face me; it was probably uncomfortable, but I didn't comment on that. The breeze created by my strokes forced wisps of her brown hair against her cheeks and into her eyes, but she didn't brush them away. Instead, she studied me.

"I want to know why you don't like me." Her bluntness always caught me by surprise, though by now I should have been accustomed to it. I couldn't help but smile; Bella always kept me on my toes, didn't she? So many words had been unspoken. And despite my coxswain being the one this time to extend the olive branch, I knew she would make me earn it.

"Turn around and let's do some rowing at 50 percent - if that's okay with you," I offered. When she started to protest - obviously fearful I'd avoid answering her, I added, "It helps me think." Bella turned and started us off at a stroke rate of 22 at half power, and I dutifully followed. Her body and its movements distracted me again - coiled tension, powerful explosion and then controlled recovery of her strokes - and I could watch unfettered and greedily from my spot behind her. It was like a beautiful ballet on water, full of romance and war. It enraptured me. _She_ enraptured me.

"Please don't think that I dislike you," I began. The sound of my voice in Bella's ear made her jump. I'd been silent for longer than I'd thought. "Nothing could be farther from the truth." _I actually _really_ like you. Enough that others have noticed._ "I realize our 'relationship' has been tense. Look, Bella, rowing is my world. To anyone else, that probably sounds pathetic, but I don't apologize for it. I won't. It's the reason I do all this crazy shit and sacrifice my body, my time, my blood and sweat and a normal life. Nothing else in my life is pure give and take like crew is. You put in the time, effort and talent and you get pride, accomplishment and so much more in return. Without this, my life doesn't make sense.

"It doesn't excuse what I did at the Head of the Charles - I _know_ that," I continued, matching Bella's even strokes with my own as she increased our pace and pressure slightly. The heavy _thunk_ of the oars rotating in their locks was proof positive that she listened to every word. "Every day since, I've regretted my actions and how it shook your confidence in yourself. And me. Because I think you and I worked well together. Think we still can." Faster and harder still. I followed.

"I've never been good at anything, Edward," she said in between hard breaths. Now it was my turn to listen. "Before…I never fit in. Never played sports. Never joined clubs. Not even the chess club. Just buried my nose in my books and let life pass me by. Now…it's different, Edward. _I'm_ different. You say this is your world. What makes you think it's any less so for me? That I don't live for the time I spend out here with you guys, part of a team? Part of something more than myself.

"Here, I'm better than just me," she added. I swallowed hard in between gulps of hard-won oxygen as we slid along. "Out here, I belong. And I'm good at this. Probably because of you, but still… No one gets to take this away from me, Edward. Not my family; not my old friends; not my professors; not some fucking punk from Skidmore. And not you."

That was what I'd done to her. I got it now. I'd robbed her of what made the blood sing in her veins. I'd taken away her ability to sense: see, smell, taste, touch and hear. And if our roles had been reversed, the result would be that I…would have felt exactly as Bella did. I would despise me, too. Snapping myself back to the here and now, I realized we were rowing pretty damn hard and fast. Both Bella and I were panting and sweating and talking was no longer viable for either of us. So we rowed.

My muscles charred in the flame of my exertion. My lungs screamed for life-giving air. No matter. I'd follow Bella until…well, until she decided to stop, or we both passed out from utter exhaustion. That was that. No question lingered in my mind. I would follow.

"Power…Ten!" Bella barked at me, and I answered with a grunt and even more speed and pressure as she breathlessly counted out the strokes. A quick glance behind us showed we were running out of river, but I needed to focus on other things. Like the pivot of Bella's hips moving her up and back. The rhythmic, labored groan of the oars rotating in the oarlocks. The wet slosh of our shell slicing through the water. The bead of sweat that formed at the back of Bella's neck, that when its burden became too much, trickled downward, leaving a glistening and salty path.

"Eight! Come on, Edward!" she gasped. "Pull! Drive with the legs. Nine! Almost there. One more. Ten!" Our oars dropped immediately and she and I slumped over, chests heaving and limbs shaking. I managed to turn us around and then we silently headed back upriver at a slow paddle.

"That felt _good_." Bella's voice rang stronger in my headset. Still a bit winded, but no longer raspy. "I'd done it in the tanks before, but it was nothing…not even close to that."

I smiled as if she could see me. I knew that feeling so well. Rowing felt _more_ than good. Otherworldly. Like sex on water. An out-of-body experience. Transcendence. Perfection. "Yeah," I said. "I know what you mean. There's nothing else like it." _Not even sex._

We were mostly silent as we made our way back to the docks. There was no need for more talk; Bella and I were both on the same page now. It was spelled out - for the world to see - in what we had just accomplished. Just as we reached the dock, and I grabbed the edge with my hand to keep us from overshooting it, a sniffle sounded in my ear. At first, I dismissed it and unscrewed my port side oar from the lock. Then there was another. And another.

"Bella, you okay?" Immediately, panic flooded my bloodstream, sending my heart into my throat and wrapping it around my larynx. She turned slightly, blinking furiously, but her nose was red and her lips appeared swollen. _Oh, fucking hell. What did I do?_ She nodded and I waited for the tears to fall, but they seemed reluctant, too, and stayed pooled in her eyes.

"I'm fine. I'm fine," she said, climbing out of the boat, pulling her starboard oar with her and shoving her feet into her sneakers. I scrambled to get out, mimicking her actions and charging up the dock ramp after her, my bare feet wet and now painfully cold. I didn't feel it, though.

"Stop. What is it?" I said, catching the sleeve of her old sweatshirt. Bella kept moving until her beloved Brown U. threatened to rip, and then turned to face me, her eyes bright with still-unshed tears. Silently, I implored her to share her burden with me. Leaning over her, I caught her gaze and held her to me with my eyes. My hands, however, itched to do more, and rubbed the material of her sweatshirt between my thumb and forefinger.

"It's nothing," she murmured. "Stupid. So dumb. I can't say it."

"Please…talk to me," I begged. Her hand moved to rest on my forearm. It felt hot as it burned through my all-weather shirt. _Jungle hot._

She sighed. The tears didn't recede, but stayed put. "It's just…that was…I feel so much better," she said quietly. "I was so _angry_. Rowing…with you - it was…cathartic. Thanks. Edward, I -"

Suddenly, my arms were full of Bella, as she crushed her body against my chest. It took my arms a sliver of a moment to process the contact, but then they sprang to action and wrapped around her small frame like the ship was going down. I breathed in gulps of her - her hair and the aroma of her shampoo, the smell of her sweaty skin - and absorbed microscopic bits of her through my skin – the tickle of her hair in my nose, the softness of the skin exposed at the frayed edge of her sweatshirt, the feel of her warmth under my lips as I gently kissed her head.

_I'd kissed her hair._

"That was nice," she said, pulling away from me much too soon with a sheepish look on her face. And the blush. God, I lived for that blush. But I didn't release her from my hold. I couldn't yet.

"It was."

"Can we do it again?" _Umm, like now? I'll hug you all night and all day if you let me._

"Um, sure," I said, unsure of the right answer. "When?"

"Tomorrow too soon?" _Never._ "I have class until 3, though. Is that too late?" _Right. Rowing._

"It might be. We might be able to get in a quickie before it gets dark," I said, plowing past the ridiculous double entendre, "if you get here as close to 3:30 as you can. Okay?" Bella strangely didn't notice that I still had my arms around her. I certainly wasn't going to point it out. She said that she'd try to get to the boathouse on time, and my heart skipped a few beats. Then her eyes filled up once more and I was lost all over again.

"What, Bella?" I asked soothingly. I'd never known her to be the crying sort and felt compelled to make it better. Her fingers squeezed my biceps. I held my breath.

"Sorry. I never cry," she said, looking down at our feet. "I hate it. It makes me feel weak." My right hand moved on its own, stopping under her chin. With aching deliberation, I eased her face up so that her eyes met mine. Her brown pupils swam in her emotions, and this time, a single tear broke free and trickled over her cheek and headed for her jaw. I swiped it away with the pad of my thumb, repeating the motion over and over even after the salty drop had been erased.

"You are the opposite of weak, Bella," I stressed, bringing my face even closer. "You're one of the strongest people I know. You could probably kick Emmett's ass. And you've already effectively kicked mine." That got a smile. And then a frown.

"Edward, I wasn't doing it for the joy of making you suffer," she said. "I just -"

"Bella, it's okay," I said, interrupting her. She had to know. "I needed it. And we're good now. No regrets. And no more sorrys. Promise me."

"Promise," she answered, my hand still under her chin and my thumb still caressing her jaw. Then silence. I noticed small flecks of gold in Bella's brown eyes. Then wondered what she saw in mine. Speculated if she liked them for a moment, and then told myself I was being ridiculous. Her lips were still swollen. I questioned why.

"You're a pretty decent man, Edward Cullen," she said with a small smile before adding, "when your ego isn't getting in the way." I smirked, still under the influence of her hot cocoa eyes.

"Mmm-hmmm," I answered. What did her lips taste like, I wondered, as I licked my own. Bella's eyes flickered to my mouth and then back. Then, as if waking from a trance, she straightened, slid her hands from my arms and took a small step away. It felt like a mile.

"I'd better go."

I blinked a few times.

"Oh - okay."

"See you tomorrow?" she asked. I might have nodded a yes. With another smile, she turned and disappeared. Chilled suddenly by the October air for the first time that day, I shivered, rubbed my arms and trotted back to the scull bobbing quietly on the Seekonk.

_A/N: So…what did you all think? I think Bella was a bit overcome – not typical for my version of her, but it shows she's human and capable of forgiveness. Now, don't think she's going to let Edward get away with anything. She's too smart for that. ;) Until next time…_

_Thank you for reading!_


	8. Chapter 8: Good little cox

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic. And thanks as always to Barbi, Megsly, Forever_Liz and Hez for letting me send them my rough drafts to get their skittles in return. This chapter will be light on the rowing…heavy on the UST. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 8**: Good little cox

This was heaven, for certain. Bella and I spent the rest of the week actually _getting along_ during practices and sculling together in the afternoons when our class schedules allowed for it. We took turns at stroke, but it quickly became clear that Bella functioned as a backseat coxswain when she wasn't stroking.

"Edward, you're slouching," she'd say if I got tired. "Sloppy, Edward. Very sloppy. You'll be doing another 2,000 meters on the erg afterward if you keep that up." Apparently, punishment for a poor performance was dolled out at her whim on the ergs. But like a good little puppy, I obliged. My cox was the boss, after all. I think I logged more miles on the river and more meters on the Concept 2 than my three-plus years combined. And I couldn't have been happier.

I tried not to be a girl and read into things, but struggled to keep my pulse in check when her fingers touched mine. Or when she massaged my shoulders briefly after putting me through my paces on the erg one evening. Bella seemed altered following our therapeutic afternoon on the river that day. She laughed more. Smiled more. Teased me mercilessly. Like I said: heaven.

My cell phone buzzed, startling me from my daydream and subtly reminding me I was actually in class and _should have been_ paying attention. Microeconomics just wasn't enthralling to me right now, however. I'd gotten a text. Sliding my phone deftly out of my jeans pocket, I pushed the track ball and clicked open the message. As soon as I did, my heart hammered against my ribcage like it was trying to break out.

_**You want 2 meet up after class? **____** -B**_

I wasted less than two seconds before hitting send. _**B, it's raining, in case u hadn't noticed.**_

_**I know, dumbass. We can work inside. Wanna punish u some more. ;) -B**_

I pretended not to notice the physical effect that text had on my body. Like that worked. Running my fingers through my hair, I stared at the screen for a moment. Was Bella _flirting_ with me? Oh, my poor overwrought brain just could not ponder this likelihood. Too many variables were present. Not nearly enough irrefutable evidence existed to support my hypothesis. Clearly, micro-econ was the farthest thing from my mind.

"Mr. Cullen?"

Shit.

"Yes, Professor Flynn?"

"I'll repeat the question, since you seemed to have missed it," she said dryly. Nothing escaped this woman's attention. "We were discussing the fictitious LD & Company, which is operating in a monopolistically competitive industry, and producing a cleaning product called WaxOff. The company currently produces the profit-maximizing quantity of WaxOff but is operating at a loss. In the long run, if the company continues to produce, will it produce the allocated efficient level of output?"

"Yes," I said. _Take that!_

"Good," she replied. "And remind me, Mr. Cullen - in a free-market economy, by what is the allocation of resources determined?"

"By consumer preferences," I answered. "Consumer sovereignty means that resources are allocated according to consumer desires and demands."

"Thank you, Mr. Cullen."

With a glare that would have put me in a body bag if looks _actually_ killed, my professor turned away. The crisis averted and my professor hunting easier prey, I glanced at the opened message from Bella and typed a reply.

_**Then I'm ur guy. What time, Mistress?**_

_**Four on the dot. B waiting 4 me - on your knees. ;) -B**_ I had to work to stifle my groan. She was trying to kill me. Did this girl have any idea what she was doing to me?

_**Pls stop that. I'm in class.**_

_**Me too. Srry u can't handle it. U started it, tho. -B**_

_**True. So I should just take my punishment like a man?**_

_**If u think u can…I'm tough to submit to. –B**_

_**But it's worth it.**_

_**Glad u think so. ;) –B**_

The texting needed to stop before my boner broke off the top of my desk. I quickly typed that I'd see her at 4 and closed my phone, slipping it back in my pocket - but not before I turned off the vibrate option.

I muddled through my classes and later sloshed across campus, through the rain, to my car…to find a fucking neon yellow boot clamped to the front left tire. I growled at it as if that would help, and envisioned the eight parking tickets I had crammed into the glove box. _A bit ironic, don't you think?_ The fine city of Providence always did enjoy collecting on those pesky tickets. To live here, one needed a master's in creative parking. Angrily, I yanked my duffel bag from the trunk and slammed the lid shut. Then without another thought for my poor Volvo, I began walking and didn't stop until I stood outside Hegeman Hall. My wet finger slipped off the buzzer once, but successfully rang it the second time.

"Hello?"

"Um, Alice?"

"Edward! What are you doing out there! It's raining cats and dogs," she said cheerily. As if I didn't know first-hand. And wasn't standing in it - still.

"I know, Alice," I deadpanned. "Can I come up?" The silence on the other end was deafening, but finally I heard the heavy deadbolt on the metal door slide open, granting me access. My wet shoes squeaked loudly with each step as I made my way down the hall. I knocked once on the door. No answer. Deciding that Alice must think herself a comedian, I knocked again, louder this time. When there was still no answer, and now thoroughly pissed off and cold, I raised my fist to pound a third time. And nearly pounded on Bella's forehead.

"Edward!" she exclaimed. _Ahh, so Alice decided I should surprise her? Super._ "Um, what are you doing here?" As usual, the blush accompanied the second part of her greeting. I smiled. It was becoming an old friend of mine.

"Well, as I about to tell Alice when she buzzed me in," I began, searching the room behind Bella for said friend, "my car has a boot on it. Can't drive it home. And I didn't want to be late for our date."

_Whoops. _

"I mean, our rowing lesson," I said, the prickly heat rushing up my neck suggesting now my face could rival hers in color. Shit.

"Right. Of course," Bella answered distractedly, before noticing I was shivering and leaving a wet spot on the carpet outside her door. "Oh, shit, Edward! Come in! You're soaked to the bone!" She grabbed my dripping arm and pulled me inside, slamming the door with her foot as she took the bag from my shoulder. Wondering where Alice had disappeared to, I took in my surroundings. Alice's side of the room stood out like a blinking traffic cone: lush bedding, lots of black, white and red, and of course, pictures of Jasper everywhere. Shifting my eyes to the other side of the dorm room, I absorbed each detail as if I were a sponge.

Bella's bed was covered in a simple blue, green and white flannel bedspread. It looked soft and comfortable. Her desk, lit by a single black gooseneck lamp, was completely obscured with books and an assortment of journals and notebooks. For her writing classes, I assumed. On the windowsill above her bed were a collection of mismatched picture frames filled with family, friends and a few with a small brunette - a mini version of the girl I knew. Instinctively I moved forward, wanting to look more closely. Those snapshots represented a window into Bella's life, and I needed a peek.

_Bella with her arms wrapped around a dog's neck._

_Bella sitting on the knee of a mustached man, both of them dressed up._

_Bella kissing a little boy - who grimaced in disgust at the gesture._

Unfortunately, my body didn't get the memo, and chose that moment to spasm in a shiver of epic proportions.

"Edward, how long were you out in the rain?" Bella's voice drifted back to me, bringing the dorm room back into focus. I shrugged and attempted to warm myself by rubbing my arms. It didn't do much, since my clothes were soaked. "Jesus, your lips are turning blue."

Bella started waiving her arms around frantically, like she was trying to land a plane or something, but I didn't hear much of what she said over the chatter of my teeth knocking into each other. Maybe I'd been out there for longer than I'd thought.

"…out of those wet clothes." Well, _that _part of the sentence got my attention. Bella and me? Taking clothes off? Wait, what? _Where was Alice? This was all sorts of weird with her lurking._

"W-wh-where's Alice?" I asked, trying to unzip my fleece with cold fingers. Bella swatted my hands away and then began working to disrobe me. I noticed distractedly that she'd also cranked up a small space heater in the small room.

"She left a minute ago to do laundry and visit a friend," she explained, trying rather unsuccessfully to tug off my wet flannel. Unbuttoning the cuffs seemed to help. With her body as a lever, Bella stripped me of it with a wet _fwap_ as it hit the floor. With lightning speed, she squatted and yanked me off one foot so she could divest me of my soggy shoes and socks. All the while, I stood there like an imbecile: too turned on to think of anything rational but not knowing where this would lead. Should I say something? Stop her? Kiss her? _Sneak attack, sucker. Mission: Dumbfounded a success. _Once the insidious thought had lodged itself in my brain, it would not be deterred.

It wasn't like I was in danger of succumbing to hypothermia. While New England falls were notoriously unforgiving, it _was_ just rain and I hadn't been standing in it all day. But it was as if Nurse Bella had snapped into action, shoving Cox Bella into the background. With no sense of self, it seemed, she endeavored to get me as naked as the day we'd practiced that way on the Seekonk.

"B-B-Bella, I'm fine," I chattered when her warm hands reached under the hem of my t-shirt. "I'll s-survive. It's just w-wet clothing. No need to go all F-F-Florence Nightingale on me." The tugging and yanking of my clothes came to an abrupt halt, which I was equal parts relieved and saddened by. Then Bella's brown eyes were level with mine. _Did she find a stool to stand on or something?_

"So you're totally willing to stand here and freeze while your clothes air dry? When you could be warm and dry and having hot cocoa with me, instead?" she asked, some unseen light source reflecting in her eyes. _Which remind me of hot cocoa, actually. Funny you asked._ When I didn't say anything, she added, "Now shut it, Cullen, and let's get you warm."

She proceeded to lift my wet t-shirt over my head, but because she was much shorter and my shirt was heavy and drenched, my head and arms got stuck. Laughing quietly under cover of my half inside-out shirt, I waited patiently for Bella's hands to resume their work. Instead of setting me free from my cotton prison, however, they landed against my stomach. _We have touching, people. Touching!_

"Uh, Bella?"

"Rowing is so good for the body," Bella mused. Damn it, why was I stuck like this? _Right now_? "You have amazing abs, Edward."

"Um…thanks. You've seen them before, though." The silence that followed suggested I was missing the blush. I squirmed to get myself free, since apparently, my abs had rendered Bella dumbstruck, too. Finally wrangling my way out, I tossed the offending shirt to the floor with my already-discarded jacket and flannel. Bella's eyes were still focused on the center of my body.

"Right, but your legs…and stuff…were in the way most of the time," she managed before realizing what she'd implied. My ears caught fire with the idea that Bella had been actually paying attention to my body that day. The small dorm room suddenly felt like a sauna.

"And 'stuff'?" I heard myself say as her fingers slid to the top button of my jeans. I swallowed hard. Took a few deep breaths through my nose, out my mouth. Bella looked up at me, finally, and blinked furiously a few dozen times.

"Uh-huh," she replied, biting her lip and pushing the copper button through the hole. I couldn't fucking believe it: Bella was actually going to undress me!

"I hope it wasn't…too distracting," I whispered. Another button.

Bella's eyes were cemented to mine. "A bit." And another button.

"Just a bit?" I teased, conjuring bravado from some deep well within. When I pouted, Bella's eyes flickered to my mouth, before jumping back up. She licked her lips. My cock bounced behind my nearly-open fly.

"A lot." Another button. My hands found and rejoiced at her warmth and softness as they came to rest on her hips. Bella didn't seem to notice, and if she did, she gave no reaction.

"I'm sorry," I said softly.

"Don't be." All it would take now was a good, solid tug and I'd, once again, be naked before her. Which reminded me only at that moment: I wasn't wearing underwear. My hand flew to cover hers, poised over the trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband.

"Bella, stop," I said, effectively severing the strange electric connection between us. I felt like a fucking asshole for trying to seduce her while she had been trying to _help_ me.

"What, Edward?" she asked, tilting her head to one side as though that would let her into my mind. Then she smirked. "You know, I've seen all of you before. Why so shy now?"

_Fucking hell._ I couldn't keep up with this woman.

"Well, that first time wasn't exactly my best moment, Bella," I reminded her. "And I hate for you and my junk to keep meeting like this -"

"Oh, so you have something against me seeing you naked, then?" she interrupted, the hurt in her voice palpable. This just got more confusing, and I shook my head, trying to explain.

"No! I mean, yes," I said, stumbling verbally as her gaze leveled me. "I mean no, but not under these circumstances! I mean, it'd be great for you to see me naked again…" _Oh, fuck it…_ "…but there's an order to these things, usually."

It took her a few moments to process my bumbling explanation. But then she smiled, the blush blooming across her cheeks. _What did I just say? _I couldn't even recall. My brain, now exhausted with its fight to survive, had shut down.

"Sorry. That wasn't a very fair question," she admitted with a blush and a smile. "But you still need to undress." When she refused to relent, I tried coercion.

"Okay, how about you turn around and I'll just put on my shorts. Hopefully they're dry." Without a word, Bella relinquished my pants and walked over to my duffel bag, lifting it up to show me. As it dripped onto the carpet, forming yet another soggy spot on her carpet below, she emptied its contents.

"Sorry, but I think this bag stopped being waterproof at some point on your way here," she said. I groaned, out of dry clothes and options. _Maybe I can just stay in my jeans._ Bella, however, was two steps ahead of me. "Here - my comforter will keep you warm while I dry your clothes."

Slightly fucking flustered, but seeing no way out of the situation, I took the proffered comforter and wrapped it around my waist with one hand while shimmying my wet jeans off my cold ass with my other. Bella held out her hand for my pants, and then took all the items and disappeared, I assumed to the dryers in the basement. Alone in her space, I shuffled over to the photographs to finally take a look.

Even as a child, Bella had long hair, I noticed. The freckles were less prominent now, but the deep, kind, brown eyes were the same, just more innocent in the old pictures. The man in that photo must be her father, I realized; they had the same eyes. Same smile. In the other, the dog took up more space than Bella. _Maybe a Burnese Mountain dog-mix. _Then my eyes shifted to the photo of Bella with the little boy.

"His name was Evan, and he was my very first crush." I started at the sound of Bella's voice, nearly dropping my makeshift caftan, and nodded in reply. "He and I both went to the same daycare, and I loved him more than anything…at the time."

"Looks like you were torturing him in this picture," I joked, smiling as I thought of how icky girls seemed to me at that age as well. "How old were you? Five?"

"Four. We were four," she said wistfully. "And apparently, kissing _was_ a form of kid torture." She stepped farther into the room - and closer to me. "He said he'd never want a girl to kiss him. I was determined to prove him wrong."

"Very tenacious, even at that age, huh?" I mused. "Did you succeed?"

"Uh-huh. Tenacious. Not in the succeeding, though," she answered. "Did you feel that way about girls when you were four?" Closer.

"Definitely. They had cooties."

"And now?" Closer still. I'd stopped breathing. Bella was an inch away from me. And I was naked under the blanket. Why was I always the naked one in this equation?

"It's nice. Now. Kissing them," I answered with stilted words. "It gets better with age."

"What?" I could feel the heat radiating off her and my cold skin absorbed it greedily. Bella seemed distracted, and a big part of my male ego hoped I was the cause.

"Kissing," I said, glancing at Bella's lips. "We're far less likely at this age to find girls icky." Bella laughed, trailing her fingers up my arm. Then she frowned.

"Edward, your skin is still like ice! I'm not doing my job. Here -" She tried to move me aside, maybe with the intention of having me shift closer to the little space heater, but I got tripped up in the blankets and must have swept her legs out from under her in the process. We both tumbled backwards, thankfully landing on her bed. And, _thankfully_, with her on top of me.

Even through that thin comforter and her clothes, Bella was warm, soft and a perfect weight over my hips. The silence after we landed might have only been a second, but it seemed longer. Gently, I lifted the curtain of hair that hid her from me, and tucked some of it behind her ear. Her face was flushed as usual, but her warm, brown eyes bore a hole into mine. She made a move to sit up and rested her hands on my chest. This, of course, aligned her pelvis with mine _flawlessly._ Bella had to feel that.

"Sorry -" we both began at once. Bella giggled nervously, her confidence suddenly misplaced.

"You hurt?" she asked. But she stayed where she was.

"I'll live." And then Bella smiled at me. Nothing special. Just the smile I'd seen more and more of lately. But it flipped a switch inside me. Whatever precipice I'd been teetering on for the past few months…I took a flying leap off and prayed like hell I wouldn't crash and die on the landing.

So I reached up, cupped her face in my hand, pulled her to me with the other - and kissed her. Warm, wet and inviting, her mouth became my home. Selfishly, I sought more - more of her, more skin, more kiss, more. More. And Bella reciprocated, giving me what I craved. Her hands wound around me; one found the skin at the back of my neck and fisted my hair, while the other clung to my shoulder for dear life.

And then she moaned. Bella fucking moaned, and everything I _thought_ I knew - about women, the rules of nature, _the meaning of life_ - splintered and crumbled until it was a pile of rubble at my feet. My body, of course, responded innately to the sound, and my arms pulled her closer to me, to hell with the clothing and blanket that separated us.

Too soon, she withdrew her lips, re-tucking her hair behind her ears and sitting back to look at me. The kissing had made her mouth red and even more enticing. I needed more. So much more of her.

"Did I convince you?" she asked bashfully. _Huh?_

"Huh? Convince me?"

"Yeah. That kissing is good."

"No need for that, Bella…but yes," I said quietly, intent on doing more of it. "Absolutely."

"Good," she said. Her fingers lightly scratched my skin as they messed with the hair at the nape of my neck. Then she gently rubbed my lips with her thumb while she studied me. "Ses yeux définer la beauté de l'âme." _**His eyes define the beauty that is his soul.**_

"Really?" I said, taken aback by her statement.

"Oh, shit," she said. "I forgot you understand French."

"Don't be embarrassed," I said soothingly, rubbing her back. "Thank you. You really think so?" After a moment, she nodded, the color in her cheeks now driving me crazy with desire. Slowly, I pressed my lips to hers again, careful not to push my luck…or give myself a case of blue balls. But Bella wouldn't stand for gentle this time. Using all of her peanut strength, she urged us back on the bed so we were lying down. From this angle, my hands found her ass all on their own. And squeezed. And I was rewarded with another exquisite moan.

"Bella, I think your laundry's -" Alice stopped mid-sentence as she encountered what must have been quite the scene. Bella vaulted off and away with blurring speed, kicking me. Luckily, the look on Alice's face distracted me from both my throbbing cock and knee. "Done."

"Hey, Alice," I said. What else could I do but confront the big, pink elephant in the room? To her credit, Alice only smirked, giving me a polite and cheerful greeting. Bella, looking from me to her with pleading eyes, finally surrendered and left to retrieve my clothes. Meanwhile, Alice quietly put away her laundry, humming a tune I soon realized was my favorite. _The very one._

"It's not what you think," I felt compelled to blurt. She just smiled and nodded - totally placating me. "You saw me. My clothes were soaked, and…well, Bella said she needed to warm me up."

"With her lips," she added.

"Alice, I -"

"Edward, it's okay. I think you've redeemed yourself," she said. "I think you've served your time, and can get out early for _improved_ behavior. But, just for the record, if you hurt her, I'll cut your balls off and feed them to you, 'kay?"

"Trust me, Alice. If I fuck this up, Bella will beat you to it," I offered. _And speak of the devil…_ Bella practically burst through the door, my clothes now dry _and_ folded in her arms.

_My good little cox._

"You didn't have to fold them, Bella," I said, taking them from her when she came over to me. There was no way in hell I was moving from her bed with Alice in the room. But again, as if endowed with magical powers, the roommate disappeared, mumbling something about needing a cup of sugar from a neighbor. Alone once more.

"Sorry about all this, Edward," Bella said, smoothing imaginary wrinkles on the edge of the comforter still wrapped around me. "It was a disaster from start to finish."

"Don't say that," I said. "The rain brought me to you. So I'd say it's a win - for me, at least." _Tell me how you feel. I'm too dense to read between the lines. Need lots of reassurance, too. Come on, my little coxie._

"You're right," she said, smiling. "It's too bad we missed our date, though."

"We'll have plenty of time for more of those, I hope," I said, catching her use of my earlier slip. And trying not to throw her down on the bed and ravage her.

"Hope so, too. Well, I suppose I should let you get dressed, shouldn't I?"

"Suppose so," I said with a sigh and then a smirk. Bella excused herself to give me some privacy, and I quickly dressed, reveling in the warmth of the freshly dried clothes. As promised, she returned with two mugs of steaming cocoa. We sat in silence on her bed for a while, sipping the chocolaty goodness. My eyes kept drifting back to the photos.

"What's your major, Edward?" Bella asked from behind her mug.

"Poli-Sci. I have no idea what I'm going to do with it, though," I answered candidly. "My dad's disappointed that I didn't decide to switch to pre-med. Obviously, it's too late for that, so I think he's come to terms with it. I made a point not to get into the family business."

"Your dad's a doctor?"

"Yeah, a pediatrician. Mom, too. She's a cardiologist, though," I added. Had Bella spiked my cocoa? What was with the verbal diarrhea? "I'm the failure. Junior's wasted his four years at an Ivy League school _rowing_." I made no attempt to hide my disdain.

"They don't accept your choice to commit yourself to something you love?" It was such a simple question. No beating around the bush, that was for damn sure - a trait in Bella I was growing quite fond of.

"It's not that simple, Bella," I said. Truthfully, my father, Edward Senior, and my mother, Elizabeth, had never uttered two words against my time here or my rowing. But that had always been my point of contention: they had never said _anything_ about it. I explained as much to Bella. "That's part of the reason…well, why I'm hoping to earn a spot on the U.S. Olympic team for the next summer games. To prove it to them. That it wasn't a waste of time, effort and money. That it means something. That I can still be great, without the MD after my name."

Bella released her mug and placed a hand on my arm. "Edward, you don't need to prove anything to _anyone_ but you. And only you can make yourself feel less than whole, less than worthy of praise," she said ardently. "And I've watched you. You're amazing at what you do. You _are _great. And the Olympics? I can see it."

"I don't deserve your kind words, Bella," I blurted. "Not after the way I treated you. I feel like every moment I spend with you, I'm testing my good fortune." Bella shut me up by kissing me. God, I loved her lips.

"Shut up. Can't we just agree that we both made mistakes and acted poorly?" she asked me. "You and I…well, I think we have a lot more in common than we'd like to admit. My parents don't get it, either. But one is too busy to notice me anyways, and the other I just avoid discussing it with."

"I'm sorry," I offered. I knew only too well what it felt like to be ignored.

"It's okay. I'm used to it," she said with a shrug. Except I knew how little those shrugs did to shake those feelings. "My mom, Renee, is too busy traveling the world with her boy-toy, Phil. My dad…well, I stick to telling him about my classes and friends. We leave it at that."

"We're our own worst enemies, aren't we?" I mused. "It's tough not to care." And then one of her comments came back to me. "And just for the record…I've never felt less whole, less worthy, than when I upset you. It killed me." Bella said nothing, but took our empty mugs and placed them on her desk. Then she came back to me and took my hands in hers. Warm. Her eyes were full of emotion as she spoke.

"I know, Edward. I could tell," she admitted. Then her fingers reached for my face, skipping over the stubble against my jaw. I closed my eyes for a moment, luxuriating in her touch. "And I regret that we fought, but it had to happen. Before growth, there must be pain, you know."

"So wise, for a little coxie," I said jokingly, wondering if she'd keep touching my face.

"You could learn a thing or two from me, Strokie," she joked back, the tips of her fingers back in my hair. Her eyes darkened infinitesimally. "Never stop caring, Edward."

"I won't."

_A/N: I eagerly await your thoughts. Thanks for reading, as always!_


	9. Chapter 9: Rowing, coxing and drinking

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic. And thanks as always to Barbi, Megsly, Forever_Liz and Hez for letting me send them my rough drafts to get their skittles in return. This one's another terminology and rowing-light chapter. Okay, kids, let's see what happens! _

**Chapter 9**: Rowing, coxing and drinking do not mix

After leaving Bella's, I walked back to my car to retrieve the damned parking tickets, then caught a bus over to city hall to pay them to remove the boot from the Volvo. Thankfully, by then, it had stopped raining. She and I had made plans to meet up again after class the next day, as was now our usual, but by the time I got home, it became clear that rowing would only be our first stop on Thursday.

"Ed, please explain to Jizzy here that the weekend technically begins on Thursday night," Emmett said as I walked in the door. "Poor kid has so much to learn," he added, shaking his head.

"McCarty, I'm well aware," Jasper retorted before I could say a word. "But I have an exam Friday, and I need to study. _Some_ of us are actually trying not to waste our money. Or our parents,' for that matter."

"Fuck you, Whitless," Emmett complained. "I study." That got a laugh from both of us. Emmett seemed confused by this, and extended the "fuck you" to me as well.

"So what's going on?" I asked.

"Takin' a trip to the Captain's tomorrow, of course!" shouted Emmett, despite the fact we were all in the same room. Captain Seaweed's Pub was a dive bar, and proudly lived up to the term - and not in the quirky, novelty kind of way. I loved the place.

"Just a guys' night? Or are the girls coming, too?" I couldn't imagine Rose or Jess stepping one manicured toe over the threshold. But what did I know about women, anyways? "They sure as hell won't want to go there."

"Rose is going," Emmett blurted like an excited geyser, before his brain could catch up with his mouth. Suddenly aware he was attracting unwanted attention, he added, "So are a few of the other girls. Angela, I think. And Alice - right, Jasper? Come on!"

Wondering if and hoping Bella might be among those who'd go, I agreed to join them and convinced Jasper it wouldn't be "gentile" of him not to escort his girlfriend to such a seedy establishment.

The next evening, Emmett, Jasper and I rolled up to the pub with Jake and Felix. Eric, Tyler, Garrett and Mike pulled into the spot behind us. The other three guys in our boat - Ben, Alec and Marc - planned to meet us at the pub later.

This, I knew, was going to be an occasion. Traditionally, there were two other things we rowers prided ourselves in excelling at, and one of them was drinking mass quantities of alcohol. A few of us - myself included - sidled up to the bar and ordered a round of shots for everyone, which were quickly thrown back. It took five minutes for us to be four shots in and quite relaxed. The usual patrons in the bar, including the stereotypical, crusty swamp yankee hovering over his glass of Jack like we might steal it from him. He and his scraggly beard seemed part of the shadows in the corner of Captain Seaweed's; maybe he was part of the décor.

"Eddie - shot!" Emmett shouted, nearly spilling the proffered shot as he thrust it against my chest. The counting of shots quickly faded into the background as my teammates shoved glass after glass into my waiting hands. Vision blurred. Depth perception waned. My voice and bravado swelled. And then Bella walked in. Despite being well on my way to Drunksville, my body registered her presence immediately. Flanked by Alice and Angela, she looked like an angel - halo and all. Okay, so that might have been the vodka talking. But Bella undoubtedly looked fucking hot.

Before I realized it, my feet were moving toward the three of them. With a clumsy wave and a slight stumble over my suddenly-larger feet, I nearly groped Angela with my greeting. None of them seemed too off-put by it, so I figured I was managing all right.

"Lllllllladies," I said with a rather ridiculously drawn out drawl. Realization dawned, and I might have even scratched my head for effect. "How did you guys get Bella in?"

Without a word, Alice pulled a small piece of plastic from Bella's hand and shoved it in my face. _Florence N. Gale. Age: 28. Native of…Florida?_

"My contacts are reliable and do good work," Alice said with a sly smile.

"Alice, she's 28 going on 88," I said, holding the license up to the shitty light in the bar. "Is that even Bella?"

"No, but she's damn close."

"Seriously, Alice? 'Weight: 170?' Bella doesn't even weigh that sopping wet and carrying Emmett," I said with a guffaw. Only then did I glance at Bella again. Her head was down and she seemed to be trying to slip into the crack in the cheap linoleum.

"I didn't want to miss out on the fun," she said, finally meeting my slightly blurry gaze. And then with a smirk she added, "If you have a moral and ethical issue with it, Edward, just look away."

"Not a chance," I blurted. _Oops. Shut up with the obvious stuff, dude._ Thankfully, Alice simply escorted my coxswain over to the bar, leaving my stupid, drunk ass in her wake. The still-clear part of my brain - locked away in the background and barely audible - yelled for me to stop drinking so I didn't do or say something I'd really regret tomorrow, but thankfully Emmett was right behind me with beers. As I took one from him and swigged it, he shrugged as he studied the label.

"Shots might work quicker, but I'm broke, so 'Gansett it is," he remarked, taking a deep pull of the "local" beer. Truthfully, it tasted like Bud to me, but because it was a Rhode Island gimmick, it was damn cheap. I could make do.

"It's all good, McCarty," I said, clinking my bottle against his. The beer disappeared rather quickly, so I sidled up to bar next to Alice and Bella. I noticed the two of them already had their drinks, despite the growing crowd and harried looking bartenders. "What's your secret, Alice?" I waved my twenty, but got no response.

"These, Edward," Alice replied, gesturing to her ample cleavage. "I never leave home - or go into a bar - without 'em."

"What would Jasper say?" I asked, feigning shock. "What are you guys drinking, by the way?" Their murky drinks looked rather disgusting. Like dirty water, actually.

"Long Island Iced Teas," Bella replied, after taking a long drink through her straw. Of course. Best-known way for a girl to get drunk, minus the "icky" task of doing shots. Alice and Bella were two of the smallest girls on the team. _Should I say something to them about not drinking too many?_ Using my near-professional drinking skills, I surmised that the two of them would be toes-up after two and a half of those. Great for Jasper. Good for me, too, maybe? "Want some, Edward?"

"Uh, no thanks, Bella," I replied, gently guiding her hand back when she offered me her glass. Any excuse to touch her. "Be careful with those, girls. It's almost all alcohol. Don't have too many, okay?" I couldn't help myself, apparently.

"Thanks, Momward," Alice snarked, then drained her glass and smacked the bar to signal for another. Bella followed suit, eyeing me over her glass as she drank. Those brown eyes did things to me. Distractedly half-palming my hard-on, I realized where I was a moment too late. Those eyes flickered down to where my hand was resting and then back up to mine. _Shit._ The smile I saw peeking out from behind Bella's drink only worsened things. I needed to escape. Seeing that the girls were determined to get wasted weakened my desire to also get tanked, and it sobered me up quite a bit, too.

"You girls have fun," I said, excusing myself after finally getting another beer. "I'll be around to check on you."

"Promise, Strokeward?" Bella asked with a smirk. _Fuck. _

"Yeah."

My one-word answer seemed to pacify her, and I quickly made my way back to the guys. Emmett, of course, was already waiting with another beer, but I needed to slow down. Something told me one of us would have to be responsible. I showed him my nearly full one and he shrugged and passed it off to Jake, who was more than happy to oblige him. After a trip to the bathroom, I realized the world had inverted itself: Emmett and Bella were doing shots.

"Face it, Little B - there's no way in hell you can take me," Emmett said. "I'm bigger and _way_ more experienced at this."

"I'm tough enough to take you on, big guy," she replied, throwing back another shot. With horror, I realized the table was already littered with empty shot glasses. As luck would have it, Rose walked in at that moment. After that, I didn't see much of Emmett, which helped me avoid drinking and cost Bella her drinking buddy.

As the night wore on, the guys and girls mixed. Jasper stayed close to Alice, who seemed to be determined to do her own version of Coyote Ugly, and Angela, Jess and Victoria were doing a damned good job of giving the other guys a run for their money, going shot-for-shot and beer-for-beer.

"Strokie, dance with me," Bella slurred, leaning against me and spilling a bit of her drink on my shoes. I looked down at her eyes, now half-closed with the weight of her drunkenness, and thought of how much I'd really like to dance with her. But not in this place. Slowly, I shook my head and smiled.

"Bella, not here, sweetie," I said. "Some other place. Some other time, okay?" Trying to appease her, I secretly meant every word. The idea of taking her out on a date - some romantic hole-in-the-wall spot with enough space for dancing if the song on the old juke box struck us – sounded perfect to me. Bella precariously set her drink down on a nearby table and threw her arms around my neck. With her body pressed against mine and her hands pulling my face closer to hers, I thought she'd try to kiss me. And, addict that I clearly was, I'd let her.

"When, Edward?" she asked, her sweet, warm breath fanning my face. I wrapped my arms around her waist, keeping her to me. Even if the contact was fueled by liquor, I didn't care. Bella had her arms around me - and was playing with the hair at the nape of my neck - and it felt so right I just didn't give a shit why it was happening. "When can I dance with you?"

"You really wanna dance with me, Bella?" I asked, partially to determine her sincerity, and partially because I simply wanted to hear her voice.

"Yes," she said, drawing out the "s" slightly, but blinking as if to clear her vision. With a determined gaze, she located my jaw with her hand and began rubbing her thumb over my skin as she studied me. "Just like _this._" Bella started to move back and forth, ever so slightly, and I dutifully followed. "See, Edward? It's nice, isn't it?"

"Mmm-hmm," I answered, kissing the top of her head.

"Edward," she murmured. I replied in the way as I had before, content with the swaying. "Take me home."

With an arm still around Bella, I quickly spoke to Emmett, Jasper and the other guys I'd taxied to the bar. They all assured me they could get rides elsewhere - it seemed a few of them were doing that other thing rowers did well - and I escorted our cox out to my Volvo. She was mostly silent on our short ride back to campus, and for a while I thought she'd fallen asleep. Luckily, I found a parking spot close to her building and when I walked around to the passenger side, it was clear I'd have to help Bella. I opened the door to find her clumsily pushing the seat belt release button.

"Strokie, this seat belt won't let me go," she complained, giving up and flopping back against the seat in defeat. With a chuckle, I knelt down and gave it a solid push with my thumb, releasing it. The look of adoration she gave me made me feel like a super hero who'd just rescued his girl from the bad guy. I almost kissed her right there. Instead, I helped her out of my car. We made our way to the door and then Bella leaned against the entryway, waiting for me.

"Bella, sweetie, how do we get you inside?" I asked. Both times I'd been buzzed into her building. "Do you have a key card or is there a combination?"

"Hmm," Bella mused. I cursed, thinking Alice would kill me if I was forced to take her roommate back to my house because the two of us couldn't figure out how to get into her dorm. "Combination! But what is it, Strokie?"

"I don't know, Bella," I said sweetly, praying she'd have a moment of clarity. It was freezing out here! "Think hard. If you can remember it, I'll punch it in for you."

"Try one, two, three, four," she suggested. It worked.

"Bella, that's not a very strong passcode," I said, worried for her safety.

"Oh, shush, Strokie," she soothed, palming my face again as she stumbled through the door. "We have deadbolts on our doors and the security guard" - she waved to him as we walked by - "is a former Navy SEAL. We're safe as kittens."

The walk down the hall was long and painfully slow, but I kept one arm around Bella for support. Quick, nervous glances back at the security guard demonstrated his short attention span for drunken college kids. That, and a larger group of rowdy ones had taken away his focus from us for the time being. We navigated our way to Bella and Alice's door and after a few unsuccessful attempts by my cox, I took the key from her and got it open.

"Home, sweet home!" Bella sang as she launched herself into the room. I locked the door behind us, hoping to keep out other drunks, and made my way over to the inebriated object of my affection. She was standing in the middle of the room - swaying slightly but otherwise, miraculously, remaining upright - beckoning me with the movement of a finger. I was completely powerless to resist her.

"What?" I asked dumbly as I walked over.

"Come 'ere," she said softly, grabbing fistfuls of my coat. "We meet again - in my room."

"Mmm-hmm," I said. Bella's eyes were wide and clear, despite her intoxication. It was as if she were drinking me in, too. I felt naked. I wanted to kiss her. Get her naked, too.

"I really enjoyed what we did in this room last time we were here," she said, yanking me down to her level so she could whisper in my ear. As if we were in a room full of people. The raspy timbre of her voice shot like an electric current, straight from my brain down to my extremities. "In fact, I'd like to do that again. Would you?"

"Oh, god, yes," I said in a rush, just before Bella's lips crashed into mine. Or maybe I initiated the kiss. I couldn't be sure. No further intelligent thought entered my mind as it focused into the point of a pin - Bella's lips were everything. The only thing. Slowly, other sensations filtered through, poking minute holes of light into the blackness: my hands holding Bella's face, her hair tickling me; the ache building inside; the desire to have her; Bella's small but warm body pressed against mine; her hands in my hair, unzipping my coat, sneaking under my shirt.

With a quick and surprisingly skilled tug, Bella managed to pull my coat off. Immediately she resumed her task of finding my skin with her fingers. I remained focused on her tongue in my mouth, for fear of going too fast. All I could feel, smell, taste, see and hear was Bella. She was all over me, all around me, inside me.

"I want you, Edward," she said, severing our connection. I blinked a few times, thinking I'd had an auditory hallucination. _There's no way she just said that._ But then she kicked off her shoes, dropped her own jacket to the floor and started backing up toward her bed. God, I loved this girl.

It took me a heartbeat, but I caught up to her quickly, covering her mouth again with mine. We stumbled - again - onto her bed, and I banged my head against the wall, but we never severed our kissing. Bella seemed fascinated with my hair, so I busied myself with unbuttoning her plaid shirt, only to find another shirt beneath it. Frustrated, I moved my hands down her ribs, past her waist, until I found her delicious ass, which I cupped through her jeans.

"God, you have good hands, Strokie," she said with a sigh and a moan. _Fuck, yes. Just you wait, my good little coxie._ Bella worked me out of my shirt and t-shirt, and then shrugged hers off - and the tank top. _Thank the sex gods for a little assistance._ This woman under me, all creamy skin, chocolate eyes and pure, undeniable sex goddess, called to me like a fog horn in the murkiness. From head to toe, she was mine. Even her Christmas-themed bra. _Mine._

"Bells and holly, Bella?" I asked, smiling at her bra. Sheepishly she looked up at me, as if she'd forgotten her attire. Placing one hand over her holiday-covered breast, I kissed her hard. This was my favorite bra, I decided.

"Actually," she said, reaching behind her, "it's mistletoe." That was all I needed to hear, as I gently slid the garment off her chest. Bending down, I placed a kiss at the top of her breast, humming in contentment at the feel of her hot skin on my lips.

"Perfect," I said, moving to take her nipple between my lips. Bella's body arched against mine, shoving more of her into my mouth. Her fingers planted themselves in the skin of my lower back, which sent tingles up and down my spine in a delicious roller-coaster of adrenaline. The denim between us provided agonizing friction as I moved my thigh between Bella's legs. The combination of skin-on-skin and jeans-on-jeans was enough to nearly make me come. Getting Bella completely naked might end up being embarrassing for me, I thought. _Can I even handle that? Buck up, asshole._

Shoving my ridiculous thoughts aside, I focused on the grinding of my hips against Bella's. Little moans escaped from her lips in between kisses, which thrilled me to no end. The heat from her body seeped through both layers of clothing and seemed to radiate from that spot on my thigh where I rubbed her. All I could concentrate on was how that warmth would feel wrapped around my cock.

"Fuck," she whimpered. I groaned, dipping my head to pay her other breast some attention. My hands wandered on their own, propelled by some irrefutable force. Finding the button of Bella's jeans, I briefly looked up, my mouth still on her, seeking permission to proceed. A brief nod and a bottom lip bitten, and I was a goner. _Fuck was right._

_Pop._ The zipper came next. Bella's underwear matched her bra. I kissed the top seam of the bell and mistletoe-covered cloth, using the tip of my tongue to sneak under the material for the briefest of moments. In response, my coxie rolled her hips and wrapped one leg around my torso. This was my road to heaven. Slowly, I teased her jeans down her hips, marveling in the lines of her body that had been hidden.

"Bella, you're beautiful," I said quietly, more to myself than to her. A soft sigh and her hands fisting my hair suggested she'd heard me, however. I kissed her hip bones, her belly button, her sweet skin, before moving back up to her face. She forcefully pulled at my jeans, popping the buttons in two yanks, and then shoved them off my ass. Bella used her feet to shimmy them down the rest of the way, which aligned her body with mine. Only then did I realize how I affected her. Stifling a moan and the urge to slide into her, I kicked off my jeans and wrapped her legs around me again.

"Please, Edward," she begged, as if reading my mind. It was too much. I had to. Nothing else had ever made more sense to me. Her fingers worked to ease my briefs off my hips, and I allowed her access. Once freed, my aching cock bounced against her stomach, making a funny smacking noise. I wriggled the rest of the way out of them and kicked them to the floor. Bella's eyes were wide open and focused between us.

"Damn," she commented. My pride swelled to ridiculous heights. And when her hand tentatively wrapped around me, I gasped and struggled to gain control over my body. Bella's hand determinedly stroked and teased me; I easily surrendered to her touch. Finally I stilled her hand, wanting her to receive pleasure, too.

"Bella, you've got to stop that," I said, kissing her again. When she looked puzzled, I added, "I'm going to come if you keep that up. And I'd like to save that for you. When I'm inside you."

"Yes, please," she moaned again, pulling me - by my cock - closer to her. I slid my hand into her underwear and was thoroughly rewarded with wetness on my fingers and another throaty moan. My little coxie was so wet and so ready for me. Gently, I pulled her underwear down her thighs and legs, and then settled myself between her legs once more. The heat and moisture drove me crazy; I could barely get out a sentence.

"Bella, are you sure?" I had to make sure she was. I knew I wanted to. More than anything I could think of. More than winning another race. More than getting a spot on the Olympic team. More than world peace.

She nodded emphatically before grabbing my ass and squeezing hard. "I've wanted you for so long, Strokie," she said with a giggle. "I knew I'd make you mine - one way or another."

"Wait - what?" The last comment gave me pause. My cock was so close to her. _So close. Just slide it in._

"What? I've wanted you, so much, and you didn't want me, Edward," she said, trying to force us together by strength and sheer will. I backed up a bit. Farther away. It hurt. "I figured getting drunk would help things along. Make you want me. More. I don't know."

Well, it certainly helped, I realized, but all it had done was given me a raging case of blue balls. Bella thought she'd actually need to get us drunk in order for me to want to be with her like this. The idea was gut-wrenching. And it pissed me off.

"I can't believe this," I said, searching for my briefs. Where the fuck were they? "After everything, you still need convincing, Bella? You really don't know how I feel about you, do you?" She shook her head, covering herself and looking a little pale.

Standing up, I rummaged through the pile of clothes and pulled on my jeans, forgetting about underwear. "Bella, you drive me crazy. You're a pain in my ass. You change your moods like the weather and I never know what's going to come out of your mouth. You're shy and blunt at the same time; being with you is like being caught on a rollercoaster."

Tears formed in Bella's eyes, but I was too far into my rant to notice. "But I love those things about you. No one drives me crazy like you do. That's a good thing," I continued, sitting on the bed to button my shirt. "Bella, I'd do anything for you. Be anything. I'd make a fool out of myself on a regular basis - row every day naked - for you, if it made you smile. I'm in over my head with you. Could you really not see that?"

"Sorry," she said, swallowing repeatedly. "I didn't even want to hope -"

"So you decided the only way to get me like this was drinking?" I asked, incredulous that this intelligent, amazing woman saw no other way. "Were you going to impress me with your shot-inhaling skills, Bella?" She shook her head, now really looking ill.

"You don't…want me, then?"

"There's no one and nothing I want more! God, Bella! That's what I'm trying to say," I said, shoving my feet into my shoes. "But the truth is, it wouldn't be right like this, with you drunk and me more than a few in the bag." I leaned down to her and pulled her comforter over her naked body. If I hoped to get out of there alive, I needed to put something between her skin and mine. And the whole thing had given me some much-needed perspective, for which I was thankful. Gently, I kissed her and ran my hand down her neck and shoulder. "The next time I'm lucky enough to be naked with you, I don't want a half-drunken roll in the hay. I want to make love to you, Bella. You deserve at least that much."

Bella simply looked at me, struck speechless or something. Tears pooled in her eyes but didn't spill. I worried I'd said too much, hurt her feelings. Hopefully she wouldn't misconstrue this as my rejection of her. Nothing could be farther from the truth. This woman meant everything to me. Anything between us would be treated with the same care.

"Oh, god, Edward," she blurted.

"What?" I asked, now concerned. Her expression was one of anguish and fear.

"I'm gonna be sick," she said. And then she puked all over me.

_A/N: Okay, folks, please put away your pitch forks and torches. It had to happen this way. I think you'll agree some things still need to be said between these two before the big event. But hopefully you enjoyed it. Thanks, as always, to you all for reading! Happy New Year!_


	10. Chapter 10: Pain is your friend

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic. And thanks as always to Barbi, Megsly, Forever_Liz and Hez for letting me send them my rough drafts to get their skittles in return. We're heading back to the world of rowing, my loves. I couldn't stay away too long, you know._

**Glossary:**

_**C.R.A.S.H.-B Sprints**_ – an indoor rowing competition held in the winter in Boston. Competitors row on ergs in a 2,000 m race for the best times.

_**Scull**_ – a boat built for a single rower, with two oars

**Chapter 10**: Pain is your friend

That was _so_ not how I'd pictured that going.

All I could do was thank my lucky stars that I'd stopped drinking hours before I took Bella out of that dive. If I'd been anywhere close to the neighborhood of drunk when she heaved all over herself and my shoes, I probably would have reciprocated. One of us was bad enough. So after I cleaned her up, changed the sheets and tucked her in safely, I texted Alice to let her know her roommate was home and in bed, and let myself out. Feeling a bit like a dirtbag for the whole evening, I even made sure Mr. Ex-Navy SEAL saw me leave.

Tomorrow was going to suck.

Friday morning, Bella didn't show for practice. Alice told us Bella was sick - _no shit_ - so Coach put us in the weight room and had us work on our erg tests instead of being on the river. None of us appreciated the detour from rowing, but since some of us planned to compete in the C.R.A.S.H.-B Sprints in Boston in February, it was a good excuse to practice. _Practice rowing our asses off the seat and then puking in a trash barrel, that is. _

After our morning punishment session I texted Bella to determine how she was feeling. Thirty minutes later, I had to give up and get on with my day. Maybe she was sleeping it off, I reasoned. It shocked me that she'd given up practice to stay in bed. True, hangovers sucked, but we'd all rowed and coxed with them. _All part of the pain-pleasure principal._ You play, you pay. But we all understood the system and partied anyways - but only when appropriate. And _not_ before a big race.

When my classes were over, I texted Bella again, beginning to worry. Was she avoiding me? Had I done something wrong? _Besides getting naked with her in her drunken state?_ Did she regret the entire night? Asking myself these ridiculous questions would get me nowhere, so I went to the second most-reliable source.

_**Alice – how's Bella feeling? Was she ok when you came home?**_

_**Hi, E. Thanx 4 helping her. She was passed out. Had to check her for breathing!**_

_**Pls tell me ur joking, Alice. I've texted her 2x, but nothing.**_

_**Kidding. Promise. ;) I talked 2 her after practice. **_

_**Why hasn't she replied? She mad at me?**_

_**Why would she b? Eddie, did you do something dumb?**_

_**Don't think so. **_

_**Why doesn't that make me feel better?**_

_**I was just worried, Alice. Things got…heavy…before she got sick. **_

I knew that text had ventured into the realm of way too much information, but Alice was Bella's friend, and I was a man starved for information.

_**Just how heavy, E? Did you guys…do it?**_

_**NO, Alice! Bella was drunk and it would have been wrong. **_

The silence killed me. What was Alice doing? Purposely torturing me with her Blackberry? Maybe Bella had told her roommate something entirely different about our night together. Horrible scenarios swirled through my brain as I painted myself as the criminal. But I'd done nothing wrong. I'd stopped us from going further; it had been the right thing to do. Surely Bella wouldn't find fault with that. Right? Finally, my pocket buzzed.

_**You're a good man, E. I knew it. B's memory is a bit foggy. Think she's a bit embarrassed.**_

_**Thanks, Alice. Shit – I don't want her to b. **_

_**Give her some time to get in touch. She'll come around.**_

With a mounting sense of helplessness, I sighed, slid the phone back into my pocket, and made my way back to the Volvo. Bella had the whole weekend - if she wanted - to avoid me. Coach asked that we practice during the weekends, but on our own. So with a heavy heart, I turned my car in the direction of the boathouse. No sense in letting my frustration go to waste. The ergs and weight machines beckoned.

Thankfully, the weekend was a low-key couple of days. It appeared that Emmett's drinking had made him a quieter man in the aftermath - either that, or the anticipation of his date with Rose had shifted his nerves in overdrive, which directly impacted his ability to ball-bust. Jasper spent much of the two days with Alice - in his bedroom - which forced me out of the house on more than one occasion. To pass the time, I went down to Thayer Street and ended up at one of the coffee shops with my laptop and book. Despite having papers to write and a book to read, my mind was filled with thoughts of Bella. I did have it bad. And not knowing how she felt about the previous night - hell, how she felt about me, period - had me climbing the walls.

Bella had said she'd wanted me, apparently for a while. But booze made fools of us all; could I take anything she'd said the night before as truth? And how much of my confession did she even remember? I groaned at the idea that all of it might have been wiped from the slate. There was no way in hell I was going to go _backwards_ with her.

What I needed to do was focus, and get Bella out of my head for now. No good would come of me being so distracted; and she'd come to me when she was ready. Alice had said so, and I believed it. I texted Jasper quickly to have him meet me down at the boathouse if he wanted to work out, and exited the coffee shop. When I arrived, I parked in front and grabbed my gear from the trunk. After a quick change, I walked up to the weight room and started my warm-up. Someone had left in my mix CD of good 80s tunes, so I cranked it and got to work, scrubbing Bella from my mind with every rep, clink of weights, every burst of carbon dioxide from my lungs.

My favorite song came on again, as it always did. I hummed when I could, using the steady rhythm to push me. After weights, I moved to the erg, which looked out the set of windows onto the balcony and the Seekonk below. It was a picturesque view - a scenic, natural vista in the most unlikely of places. That was how I saw it, at least. The comforting whir of the machine's fly wheel felt like a second heartbeat. The Marston Boathouse was my home. Not some stuffy old house in Chicago.

_Home. Heartbeat. Whir._

_Home. Heart. Whir._

_Bella. Heart. Whir._

_Home. Bella. Heart. Whir._

I pushed with every muscle in my body, every moveable piece, until the display read 2,000 meters and a time of 6:30. Not bad. Plenty of time to get it down for the sprints. Chest heaving and sweat pouring over my prickly skin, I slid back and forth on the seat a few times to gradually lower my heart rate before standing. To cool off, I walked out to the deck and leaned on the railing, watching the gentle current of the river. Since Jasper had obviously chosen quality time with his girlfriend over weight training, I decided to take one of the sculls out. Only the seniors were allowed to take out the single sculls, and I luxuriated in the perk, even though I'd earned the right. After I brought the oars down to the dock, I walked the shell down and gently set it on the water. Once my feet were secure, along with the oars, I pulled my shirt over my head, leaving on my wife-beater, shoved it in the space under my seat, checked behind me for obstacles and traffic, and pushed away from the dock.

Though it had taken hours and many attempts, I found that I excelled at sculling. I alone was in charge here, and only for me. I set the boat; I kept the pace; I decided when to pull hard and how fast. As my blades moved smoothly through the murky water - emerging, turning parallel to the surface on the recovery, turning back to perpendicular, and reentering - I became movement, kinetic energy realized, a human machine.

The motion of my body, fused with the oars in my hands, the shell under me and the water surrounding me, became the same as the blood rushing through my veins to supply my muscles oxygen. Nothing separate now - only unison of one with water and fiberglass. I could no more tell where my hands ended and the oars began than I could tell my own power from that of the river's current.

Pain was inconsequential out here. We never spoke of the pain - not any of us. To do so might magnify it, breathe life into it, and anyways, to speak of it was almost blasphemous. To ignore it always seemed to convince us that it played a less important role in the task. And like every other day, every other race, I ignored it now.

Time was only a suggestion our here, but when the sun faded behind the old buildings and trees, I turned and headed back to the boathouse, exhausted and sated. With my back to my destination, I had to fight the current to sidle up to the dock, but when I glanced behind me, I saw a figure in the distance standing on the dock.

_Bella._

Suddenly, the current was no match for me. I made good time, and she surprisingly helped me land, grabbing my outstretched port oar as I lifted it, pulling me closer.

"Thanks."

"Sure."

I busied myself with untying my shoes and unlocking the oarlocks. Then I grabbed my now-soaked t-shirt and stepped out of the scull. Bella seemed unsure of herself, strangely out of place here, which bothered me. She should feel just as much at home here as I did. She surprised me again by speaking first.

"I'm sorry I didn't reply to your texts," she said, studying my wet socked feet. "I…uh, wasn't feeling well."

I chuckled softly as memories of the night before flashed through my mind. Bella's nickname for me. Bella's desire to dance in that shitty-ass bar. Bella's bell and mistletoe underwear. I almost groaned aloud at that one.

"I was worried about you," I said instead. Her expression asked me why without words being necessary. "I thought…thought you might have been upset about how - about last night."

She blushed, no doubt from what her memory offered her. I felt the flames lick my own cheeks with the recollection of our two naked bodies pressed together, and used my wet shirt to cover my growing hard-on. _Not the best time._

"No. Not upset," Bella said. She looked as if she wanted to say more, but then bit her lip. Then, as if to change the subject, she offered to take my oars for me. After nearly losing one in the river, and a few collisions with the wall, Bella secured them in the rack as I brought in the boat and rested it on a sling. My coxie looked like she might bolt.

"Wait – how did you know I was here?" I asked. "Or was it just a coincidence?"

"Alice."

_Please don't run away._

"You're beautiful, Edward."

_Huh?_

"Huh?"

"Out there, on the water. I've never watched you from shore before," Bella said quietly as her fingers trailed the handles of the oars in the rack. I didn't dare move from my spot across the boathouse bay. "You're beautiful. Like a pulse - like my heartbeat. Amazing."

I ran my fingers through my hair, at a loss for what to say in reply. Before I could stumble through some inept thanks, however, Bella moved toward the door.

"Sorry - I don't know why I came," she said. "I'm so stupid."

"Hey! Bella, wait!" I ran after her, determined not to let this discussion pass us by. We both needed to clear the air and I needed even more to hear Bella say what was on her mind. Gently I grabbed her arm, turning her to face me. We were much closer than I'd realized, and immediately my senses sharpened their focus, fueled by adrenaline and something else. "Come on. Why does it have to hurt so much? Just _talk_ to me. Please."

"Edward, I don't know what to say," she said. "I feel so dumb…about last night. I was an idiot. I can't believe I acted like that. It wasn't me."

"Do you…regret it?" I asked tentatively, keeping my hand on her arm. The warmth of her skin migrated to my fingers, providing me little comfort, given my state of dress and the situation.

"Edward, the only thing I _don't_ regret about last night is what we did and what I said to you just before," she replied, her gaze clear and strong. _That_ melted me. "My memory is a little foggy, though, so I'm not sure if I remember all of it. And of course, my brain has decided to punish me with memories of how the evening ended."

Bella took a shuffle-step closer to me, leaning her body ever-so-slightly against mine. She sighed and then closed her eyes, as if the gesture made her feel more at-ease. Taking the cue, I slid my hand up her arm, skimmed the hot skin of her neck and cradled her jaw with my fingers. Bending down to her level, I put my lips close to hers but kept them from touching her.

"I guess, then, that I'll have to refresh your memory," I whispered, before her lids popped open in surprise. Closing the miniscule distance, I kissed her, willing it to open the floodgates and her heart. Her arms went around my neck almost instantly, and my other hand found the small of her back and pulled her closer.

"This…this I remember," she said breathlessly as she broke the kiss. Bella trailed her hands across my shoulders, down my back and to my ass, which she squeezed. I groaned, instantly hard again. "I definitely remember that, too."

Regretfully, her hands did not stay there, and moved up to rest on either side of my face. She looked into my eyes as if they held all the secrets of the universe. What she was trying to find in them, I had no idea. Once again, I was naked before her.

"I'm so sorry I've shut you out," she said. It shocked me. As if she'd read my mind, Bella was giving me what I'd craved for months. "You deserve so much more. And I know you've given me all of you - on and off the water - and it's time I do the same." All I could do was kiss her passionately and nod for her to continue.

Bella kept my face so close as she spoke. "Vous êtes ce qui est beau dans ma vie. Et vous me rendez beau y étant." _You are what is beautiful in my life. And you make me beautiful by being in it._

"No, Bella," I said, completely undone by this woman. "It's the other way around."

Bella shook her head and continued. "You're the first face I see in the morning, and you're the last thing I think of when I go to sleep at night. You intimidate and challenge me, Edward, like no one ever has. But you're also patient, kind and caring. It's the dichotomy of you that I love. The competitor and athlete. The teacher and heart and soul of a romantic. I've never met anyone like you."

"Same here," I answered lamely. "Do you remember any of what I said to you last night?" Bella nodded and smiled.

"You said you'd row naked for me every day if it made me happy," she replied. Then her face grew serious. "And you said you'd do and be anything for me."

"I would."

"I know. I'm sorry I went about this the wrong way," she said, her fingers gently rubbing my stubble. "You are kind of an imposing person. And perfect and beautiful and amazing. It's just that I wanted - have wanted - you so badly, I think it made me a little crazy."

"A little, coxie?" I joked, punctuating my sarcasm with a kiss. She replied with a gentle punch to my stomach, but then gathered my wife-beater in her fist. "Well you have me, so now what?"

"Well, Strokeward, I've been thinking about that dance you owe me."

"Ohhhh…."

"I'd like to collect on it," she said. "As soon as possible."

"I think that can be arranged," I said, the wheels in my brain turning furiously. An idea occurred to me, and I decided to run with it. My housemates owed me a night anyways, I figured. "Why don't you come over tonight for dinner? We'll see if we can arrange for some music and dancing. This way, if you step on my toes, no one will be the wiser."

"Shut it. I'm a good dancer," she said, playfully pouting. "But dinner at your house sounds nice. Will Emmett and Jasper be there, too?"

"No. Just us. I'll see to it."

"Good." Bella pulled me to her and kissed me again, and the contact zipped right along my spinal column and exploded in my groin. There could be no denying what she did to me.

"How's seven?" I asked, mentally calculating how long it would take me to shop for dinner, get home, kick everyone out and then clean. Man, I was really starting to sound like a girl. Whatever. Bella was worth it. We agreed on the time and after a few more really frustrating minutes of making out, we parted ways for the remaining hours.

Emmett was already gone when I got home, on his way to pick up Rose. And thanks to Alice, it didn't take much coaxing to convince Jasper to relocate for the evening. I thanked them both and got working on dinner. Not much of a cook, my repertoire was limited, but I could cook a mean baked ziti, so I went with it. With the ziti in the over with the garlic bread and a salad made, I jumped into the shower and shaved.

By the time seven arrived, I'd set our small kitchen table and was clean and dressed – in a shirt and nice pants, thank you very much. I figured if this was our first date, I wanted to look the part. I cued up the appropriate date-worthy music and lit the candles. Hopefully, Bella would approve. Eight nerve-wracking minutes later, she knocked on the door.

She looked amazing. Bella wore a simple, short black dress that hugged each of her curves as if the dress loved her. Her shoes had to have been six inches high, which brought her closer to my chin, rather than my chest, but they were hot as fuck. I stood there gaping like an imbecile for god knows how long before she giggled and cleared her throat.

"Hi, Edward. Can I come in?"

"Of course. Sorry," I stammered, stepping aside to let her enter. I took her sweater and realized when she turned around that the back of her dress dipped low - almost to her ass. Holy shit. This was going to be…interesting. Regaining _some_ of my senses, I followed her into the kitchen. "You look amazing, Bella. Absolutely beautiful."

She turned and blushed as she took the time to ogle me as well. "And you, Edward, look good enough to eat." Bella closed the distance between us with two sultry steps in those fuck-me-good high heels and kissed me like she planned on putting the shoes to use. _Damn_. In a move that was becoming a habit - not that I would ever complain - Bella's hands slid down my back and grabbed my ass. I stifled the groan that threatened to spill forth and cleared my throat instead.

"Hungry?" I asked.

"Ravenous." _Damn right._ As I ushered Bella to her seat, she stumbled in those giant heels and, if I hadn't caught her, would have used the table - along with the table cloth, bottle of wine, candles, plates and silverware - to break her fall.

"Alice," she said simply and with a grimace as I eased her into one of the chairs so she could rub her ankles…and discard the killer shoes. I nodded and chuckled as I served two helpings of dinner and brought them back to the table. Bella's eyes popped open as I set the plate in front of her, and she closed her eyes as she took a whiff of the ziti and bread.

"Edward, this smells wonderful," she said with a sigh, picking up her fork immediately. She moaned when the ziti hit her tongue. The first bite tasted pretty damn good to me, too. We ate quietly for a few minutes, and I used the time to watch Bella eat. Although she seemed intent on inhaling the meal, my coxie still managed to look sexy while doing it.

"So, what are your plans for the holidays?" she asked me, snapping me back into focus.

I grimaced without thinking and replied, "Spending them, of course, with my parents at home. I'd love an excuse to stay in Rhode Island, but rowing is _not_ adequate, apparently." When Bella looked confused, I elaborated. "Lizzy and Eddie plan elaborate dinners and invite all of their high society friends. They task me with playing the role of dutiful son. I play along. But underneath it all, we're anything but the perfect family."

"No one's family is perfect, Strokie," she said. "They can't be all bad. After all, aren't they paying your tuition and rent?" I balked at the suggestion and shook my head, taking a gulp of my wine.

"God, no. I'm here on a rowing scholarship, thanks to my years of prep school and rowing there," I explained. "As for my rent, well, I have a few odd jobs to keep me in the black, and it also helps having two housemates whose parents _are_ paying for those things. And have you _seen_ my Volvo? Poor thing - she's on her last legs."

Bella seemed nonplussed with this information. "But why, Edward, don't they help you? Are they really that cruel?"

I shook my head. "Bella, I don't want anything from them. When I finished prep school, I told my parents that I was done with them forcing a life on me that I didn't want. I'm paying for everything that isn't covered by the scholarship, and my life here is on my terms."

"Though you _still_ ended up at an Ivy League school," Bella mused quietly. She had me on that one. Perhaps some small part of me still hoped to make them proud. Someday.

"They have one of the best crews in the northeast," I said.

"Mmm-hmm," she answered. "Ever heard of a little school called Yale?"

"What about you, coxie? What are you doing for the holidays?" I asked, desperate to bring the subject back into focus. Bella told me she was spending Thanksgiving with her dad, and that she'd worry about Christmas later. Her face, however, suggested that she worried about it even now. But Bella didn't offer more, and I didn't want to push her. When we were finished, I cleared our plates and asked Bella if she wanted dessert. I'd picked up a cupcake from LaSalle Bakery for us to split.

"No, I think I'd like that dance now, if you don't mind," she said, walking into the living room to the iPod dock. Jasper had downloaded some good "date music" for me earlier, and I watched as Bella scrolled through the selection. Finding one she liked, Bella set the iPod back in its cradle and extended her hand to me. "Come 'ere."

As soon as the sultry slow tune crackled over the speakers, my feet moved on their own toward her. Bella called to me like a siren. I was powerless to resist. My hands wrapped around her waist and her arms went around my neck. We swayed gently and slowly, blanketed by the liquid sex of Portishead's "Glory Box." I could have sworn my heartbeat changed its rhythm to match the baseline. Bella seemed equally enthralled with the mood it set, and began kissing my neck, teasing and torturing.

I closed my eyes and simply _felt_ Bella. Her perfume invaded my nostrils; the excited thudding of her heart thundered against my own; the softness of her dress seemed to melt under my fingertips. And her skin beckoned to me. I dipped my head to her shoulder and kissed the exposed skin there. But it wasn't enough. The music surged again and I spun her around so her back was pressed to my chest. The heat from her skin seeped through my shirt, but still I needed more contact. And as I ran my fingers under the neckline of her black dress, Bella tilted her head to the side, reached behind her and grabbed my thighs. _Fuck. Double fuck._

"God, you smell amazing, Bella," I murmured against her skin. "Taste good, too." She moaned in reply and ground her ass against me. Then her hands were in my hair, tugging me to her neck again, and I willingly complied. My fingers skimmed over the swells of her breasts and Bella's breath hitched and then sped up. Fuck, she was panting. Then again, so was I. Her hands were on the move again, first to my ass and then - I realized on a sharp inhale - to the front of my pants. In reply, I slid my hands down until I found her nipples, taking them between my fingers. My mouth needed to be in on this.

"I need you, Bella," I half-growled as she palmed my hard-on through my pants.

"Yes," she murmured as she turned to face me. The moment our lips met, the fire that had simmered and bubbled beneath the surface exploded in a brilliant volcanic display. Without breaking our kiss, I reached down. Bella caught on quickly, jumping into my arms and wrapping her legs around me. Stumbling backwards, I narrowly missed the pile of free weights before falling onto the couch with Bella in my lap. The detour didn't seem to bother her in the slightest as she attempted to blindly unbutton my shirt. Talented fingers, this one. Bella managed to get my shirt off with one hand, while the other yanked on a fistful of my hair.

"Fuck," I managed when she bit my lip. Where the hell was the zipper on this damn dress? Frustrated, I pulled it off her shoulders in one rough motion. In trade, Bella yanked my t-shirt over my head and then nearly tore off my belt. The leather made a satisfying slapping sound as it slid through the belt loops and licked the front of my pants on its way to the floor.

Bella's eyes were wild. Her gloriously bare chest heaved with the burden of her desire, as did mine. With one hand pressing her to my mouth, I twirled my tongue around one firm nipple and then the other, savoring her body's response. Bella's hips rocked, seeking friction, her fingernails dug into my shoulders, her head lolled back and her mouth opened. _Absolute, feminine perfection._ Magnificent in all her disheveled eroticism and undone with want.

As if she knew exactly what I needed to hear, she whispered to me, "Edward - bed. You and me. Now."

_Abso-fucking-lutely. _Utilizing some buried reserve of coordination, I stood us up and made the eight steps to my bedroom without incident - with the exception of Bella unbuttoning and unzipping my pants en route. I kicked off my shoes and set her down to turn on the light. As I turned back to her, a blur of brown hair, pale skin and black attacked me, divesting me of my pants. Standing her up, I gently pulled the dress the remainder of the way off, and it pooled at her feet like a mysterious and yet-undiscovered liquid.

"God, you're perfect," I said, only vaguely aware that I might have sounded like a broken record. Bella reached for my hand and pulled me with her onto the bed. As we landed, her legs wrapped around me once more, aligning our bodies flawlessly. I groaned as my cock pressed against Bella's body, the heat driving me to consume her as she consumed me. Our mouths desperately crashed, fought, met and played, dancing in time with the rest of our bodies. It seemed now that while we needed this, neither felt willing to rush it.

With painstaking deliberation, I worked my mouth down Bella's body, pausing to pay homage with my lips in my favorite places: her collarbone, breasts, ribs, belly button. Gently I pressed a kiss into the only fabric still covering her, again glancing up for permission.

She nodded.

With two fingers in the waistband, I eased them off her, down her thighs, past her knees, around her ankles and onto the floor. Then I pressed another chaste kiss to the newly exposed skin and thin strip of hair before moving back to her. Bella moaned into my mouth and kneaded my ass under my boxer briefs. Then she pushed them off my hips.

"I remember this, too," Bella said quietly with a smile and a furious blush when she took in my arousal. I answered her by pressing my cock against her, heat on hot and wet. _So wet._ As I rocked my hips, sliding up and down, my coxie arched into me and a rush of wetness milked me. It took every ounce of restraint not to plunge into her.

"I…have…protection," we huffed in unison. With a breathless chuckle, I reached into my nightstand and produced a foil packet. "I'm closer," I said, "and I'm not letting _you_ out of my sight." Bella giggled and nodded. Sliding the latex down my aching cock, I kissed Bella again and then positioned myself at her entrance.

"You sure?" I asked, realizing at this stage it sounded rather ridiculous to ask. But instead of poking fun, Bella bit her lip and nodded emphatically, pulling me closer and forcing me just inside her.

"Oh, god," I said as the air rushed from my lungs. Slowly, oh so slowly, I pushed farther, stopping to gauge Bella's reaction and to let her body adjust. She smiled and kissed me, encouraging more. I gradually withdrew and then slipped inside her fully. Hot, tight, slick and perfect. As I established a steady rhythm, Bella met me with every thrust – hands roaming my skin, lips needy on mine, breasts colliding against my chest. _Heaven._

"Heaven."

"My thoughts…exactly," she said. "You feel so perfect inside me, Edward. You…are everything…to me."

The sound of my name on her lips and the words that followed drove me toward my release. I doubled my efforts and was immediately rewarded by a mini-earthquake, courtesy of my Bella. We drove each other on, our breathing ragged, our bodies overheated and sweaty, and the world slipping away beneath us. Everything that was important at that moment radiated from the place our bodies were joined. I melted into Bella; she took me inside her and claimed me as hers as we both jumped over the precipice and came.

And I _was_ hers.

_A/N: Okay, gang. No highwire acts for their first time, but that's sex for ya! And I think our Bella is doing quite well in opening up to Strokeward. As always, thanks for reading! Hope this was worth the wait! XOXO_


	11. Chapter 11: The mother of all crabs

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic. And thanks as always to Barbi, Megsly, Forever_Liz and Hez for letting me send them my rough drafts to get their skittles in return. As the title of this chapter suggests, big things are afoot and primed to rock the boat, so to speak. Forgive my bad puns and enjoy._

**Chapter 11**: The mother of all crabs

As she slept, I took great pains to burn the image of Bella - lying naked between my sheets - into my brain. Her mahogany hair fanned behind her head as she lay on her stomach, with her face turned toward me and her beautiful mouth open as she snored softly. I'd woken up around 4:30, probably out of habit more than anything else. Bella, however, seemed dead to the world. So I watched her sleep.

During the night she had evidently kicked off her side of the comforter and the sheet had slid down to her waist, exposing the creamy skin of her back. Quietly, I slipped out of bed to turn up the heat when she shivered. I couldn't bear to cover her and deprive my eyes of this particular sight. When I returned to her, she stirred, and in the process exposed the side of one breast. My morning wood turned painful.

If I thought Bella had been resplendent - _yes, I said resplendent _- in the throes of passion, she was an angel in the afterglow. Had my body not demanded sleep afterwards, I probably would have stared at her all night. _Kinda like a stalker._ Man, did I have it _bad._ Emmett and Jasper's words from a few weeks before echoed in my mind. I shrugged as if answering them and scooted closer to Bella, running a few fingers down her back. She was so soft.

"Mmmmm…." Bella murmured as she rolled onto her back, stretching her arms over her head. In the dim light of early morning I could see her eyes were open and staring at the ceiling. Then she rolled toward me and propped her head up on one hand, mimicking my position. I got hard all over again. "Morning," she whispered.

"Hey," I said, mesmerized by her and the roughness in her voice. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like a baby," she said with a smirk. "Exercise is good for that, you know." She turned over and pushed herself back against me so we could spoon. My erection slid right between her cheeks.

"So I've heard," I muttered, kissing her neck and wrapping my free arm around her. And tried to ignore my raging hard-on. This was nice. No waking up to an empty bed, no hurried departures, no awkward morning-after shit. _A guy could get used to this._ Bella felt like she belonged in my bed. "Are you hungry?"

She sighed, wiggling her ass ever-so-slightly against me. I stifled a groan. Then adjusted my hand so it covered her right breast. Two could play at that game. "Not yet," she said. "Still need to wake up a bit."

Squeezing her breast and teasing her nipple with my finger, I leaned over and kissed my way from her shoulder to her ear. "I can help you with that, too." Her body quickly responded to me, and as I started a gentle movement of my hips against her bottom, she grabbed the hair at the nape of my neck and arched her back. Bella reached into my nightstand this time and I made quick work of the condom. Then I gently lifted her leg and slid inside her from behind. Once again, the tight, hot wetness of her enveloped me and we quickly found a rhythm. As Bella turned her head to capture my lips with hers, everything seemed right with the world.

_Yes, a guy could certainly get used to this._

An hour later, we were eating breakfast. I'd made eggs, bacon and toast. Thankfully, I did most of the shopping for my housemates, which ensured we nearly always had good food. Bella ate like she hadn't eaten the night before.

"Good?" I asked in between bites. She nodded emphatically and then blushed, looking damn edible in one of my regatta shirts and a pair of wool socks.

"Sorry - I'm totally pigging out," she said. "It's just that I didn't realize I'd worked up such an appetite. Breakfast is delicious, Edward. Thank you."

"Welcome. So, what do you want to do today?" I asked her. "At some point I need to head down to the boathouse for a workout, and you're welcome to come with me, or whatever. I mean, I'm not assuming you want to spend the day with me or anything. But I'd love to…if you want." _Smooth, Cullen. Real smooth._

"That sounds nice," Bella said sweetly, gazing at me for a moment before her blush got the best of her. We finished our breakfast in comfortable silence and then I cleared the dishes and left them in the sink. Bella offered to wash, but I refused. Although the thought of her nearly naked and washing dishes _did_ turn me on. I pushed the image away and invited her back to my room to watch TV. I expected Jasper home any time, and who ever knew with Emmett - though judging from the fact that he hadn't come home last night, I would have bet that his date with Rose went well. _Either that or his bike had a flat._

We snuggled together under my blankets, Bella in my shirt and socks and me in my pajama bottoms. The local news station's early show started at 6 a.m., so I flipped to it and pulled Bella closer. Chef Terranova was busy cooking up some quick versions of Thanksgiving dishes, and it got me thinking. Bella had been visibly stressed when I'd raised the topic of the holidays and her plans. A thought occurred to me, though in my own mind it didn't seem like a solution. Maybe to Bella, however, it would be.

"Bella? You awake?" I whispered.

"Yeah," she said.

"Um, I was thinking…" I began, completely unsure of my footing. I'd never even considered asking a girl to come home with me. Ever. Especially not for the holidays. "I, uh, wanted to know if…well, I wanted to invite you…to come home with me to Chicago for Thanksgiving. If you want to, that is."

Bella was silent for what seemed like an eternity. Just as I started to regret opening my mouth, she sighed and squeezed my midsection in a fierce hug.

"Thank you - so much, Edward," she said, sitting up to look at me. Her expression told me she was serious. "It means so much that you want me to meet your parents and share Thanksgiving with you. Really." She kissed me and then settled against my chest, her face now out of view. "I just…can't. I'm sorry. The holidays are really tough in the Swan house, and I couldn't bear to leave my dad alone."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't suggesting you choose me over him," I said, compelled to explain. "It's just that…well, you seemed so upset with the idea of going home, and I wanted to offer you an alternative. Not that my parents are a fun-filled option, but I hated seeing you upset." I felt Bella's lips on my stomach, her hand pulling me to her. After kissing the muscles there, she finally looked at me. I searched her eyes for something - anything - that might allude to what was going on in her head.

"You are so sweet to think of me," she said, caressing my face. "And I know you weren't suggesting that. There's nothing I'd like more than to spend Thanksgiving with you, Edward. But I can't." She paused and smoothed one of my eyebrows. "My dad…he _needs_ me home."

It was clear Bella would say no more about her family's situation, but I struggled to piece together the image that was forming: Bella's father, apparently a different person during the holidays; Bella's mom too busy to notice her, distracting herself with her "boy-toy;" the gloom over the Swan house at this time of year. But the ideas were a jumbled mess in my head. Nothing made sense.

"I should probably go," Bella said, interrupting my dizzying thought process. She started to get out of bed, but I reached for her hand, desperate for her not to leave like this. Obviously I'd upset her.

"Bella, come on," I began, gently tugging her back. "Look, I wasn't trying to invade your privacy. But you have to admit, you're only giving me a sliver of the picture here. I'm sorry the holidays suck at your house. Why don't you stay at school, then? Use the time to practice in the weight room? Do some erging? I don't know."

She laughed unhappily and shook her head. "Rowing is the _last_ thing I should be doing during the holidays, Edward," she said cryptically. "Trust me. Besides, we all have family shit to deal with. What's a few holidays every year to dust off the old skeletons?"

Before I could delve into the last comment, she crawled back onto the bed and kissed me hard, the oversized t-shirt riding up to expose her. It was nearly impossible to form a coherent thought or sentence after that. I gladly surrendered.

On the last day of classes before Thanksgiving break, I found myself in the boathouse again, helping Coach Carlisle and Coach Esme lock up for the recess. Boats were checked and secured, oars straightened, equipment organized and docks and launch stored against the side of the building for the winter. I trudged upstairs to the office to ask if anything else needed to be done, and noticed Esme adjusting a picture I'd never noticed.

"Hi, Edward," she said cheerfully as Carlisle looked up from his stack of paperwork. "Done already?"

"Everything was pretty much in order down there," I said. "I was just coming up to ask if you wanted me to clean the weight room or anything." My eyes lingered on the photo of the sculler. It was an older photo, but I could have sworn it hadn't been on the wall the last time I was in Coach's office. I took a step closer.

"If you don't mind, the floors could use a quick sweep, and maybe the glass a bit of Windex," Carlisle said as I squinted to read the brass plaque on the frame under the image.

_Matthew C. Swan_

_Brown University Crew, Class of '02_

_1981-2002_

The air left the small room as familiarity and clarity dawned. Swan. Another Swan had attended Brown. And rowed. I struggled to get a decent gulp of breath as the final piece of Bella's puzzle slid into place with a sickening crunch. He'd been 21 when he died. The same year he graduated.

Dimly, Esme's soft voice registered, as did the warmth of her hand as she pressed something into my own. The broom. She was talking to me.

"Edward, are you okay?" I nodded without considering whether I really was. "The Windex and paper towels are in the cabinet downstairs. Honey, what's the matter?"

"The picture, Esme. Is it new?" I stammered.

"Oh, uh, yes," she said, glancing at Carlisle. "Actually, the Swan family had the picture framed for us and the plaque engraved just recently. I just hung it up. Isn't it nice?"

Carlisle studied me while I gaped. "Hell of a rower, that kid. Horrible what happened." My eyes flashed to his. He had known this guy.

"You knew him, Coach?" I asked, silently imploring him for information. I knew I needed to talk to Bella, but right now it wasn't an option. Carlisle nodded solemnly.

"I'd just started as an assistant coach. Matt was in his senior year. Rowing accident," he said stiltedly. Then he looked at me with a puzzled expression. "Didn't you know about him? I thought it was common knowledge in the Brown rowing community."

Sure, I'd heard about a rower who died tragically in his senior year here at the university. It had been all over the news at the time, Rhode Island being a small state and Brown being a very prestigious school. Since then, it had turned into somewhat of an urban legend. Rowers talked about it, but never mentioned details. And until today, I'd never seen a picture - or connected the dots.

After excusing myself to go clean the weight room, I pulled my backberry from my coat pocket and did a search. The rower - Matthew Swan - had caught a crab in a race on the Seekonk, and was ejected from the boat. Upon hitting the water, he'd apparently hit a submerged piling and the impact had severed his spinal cord. He died a few weeks later. The rowing and university community had mourned the loss. I imagined the effect had been ten-fold in Washington. _God. Bella._ What was I going to say?

As I wiped the glass of the weight room windows, thoughts of Bella swam in my head. More than ever, I wanted to take her away from that pain - remove her from the loss that seemed that much heavier this time of year. A small, selfish part of me felt wounded that she hadn't confided in me. Others obviously knew about it. Alice's telling me Bella was an only child. Emmett's comments, so sure Bella wouldn't quit crew. Did they all know? Was I the only idiot? The only one left out or too blind to put it together?

"Edward?" Carlisle's voice shattered the quiet and startled me. I smiled weakly and resumed my task. A few minutes of silence proved too awkward for me, though.

"Coach, I didn't know."

"I understand," he said simply. "And you feel betrayed that Bella wouldn't talk to you about it. That your bond wasn't as strong as you thought."

"Something like that," I admitted.

"Edward, Bella is special. So strong in many regards, yet weak in others," he said sagely. "I think, also, in the same way, she's worked hard to keep the memory of her brother alive, but only privately. She hides her family connection, but is haunted by it as well, I think."

"It's a bit fucked up, Coach. Sorry, but it is," I muttered angrily as I took my frustrations out on the smudges.

"Life and death are often exactly _that_, Edward," he said. "Her father sent us a very nice letter before she arrived, asking us not to question her or push her regarding Matthew. Not unless she offered it. So I'm sure you're not the only one, Edward, who didn't put the pieces together."

"I just feel like an asshole."

"I'm sure Bella would disagree," he argued. "When you're ready, talk to her about it. You two have a special connection. I'm pretty confident that she would be willing to speak to you - above all others - about him."

"Thanks, Coach," I said, tossing the dirty paper towels in the trash. As I walked out of the room, Carlisle clapped his hand over my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Edward," he said with a sad smile. I wished him the same and also to Coach Esme on my way out. As I sat in my car, letting the engine warm up, I texted Bella.

_**Hi there. Will I see you before you leave?**_My stomach was a ball of knots.

_**Not sure. Flight leaves tonight at 6:15. **_

Shit. I glanced at my watch. It was already after four. The thought of not seeing her for the next five days felt like a gut-punch. An idea popped into my head, and I threw the Volvo into gear and raced home. Twenty minutes later I threw my duffle into the trunk, sent a text to Jasper and Emmett, and left a voicemail for my parents. Luckily, they never seemed to be home to answer the damn phone. Then I headed for T.F. Green Airport.

My timing couldn't have been better. I parked in the long-term lot and ran for the terminal. I couldn't find Bella, so I texted her again.

_**Sorry. Was driving home. What airline you flying on?**_

_**United. Why? You going to kiss me at the gate?**_

_**Sure. What gate?**_

_**10. Just left my car.**_

With a few minutes to spare, I hauled ass toward her gate, using my phone to see if there were any extra seats available on her flight. It was a connecting flight with quite a few stops, I realized, so I was fortunate enough to find one seat by the wing. Whatever. Didn't matter. Making a detour to the ticketing counter, I managed to secure my fare without losing a limb. Then I found the waiting area and made my way over to Bella, trying to walk normally. _Slowly_. I found her standing by the windows looking out onto the tarmac.

"Hey," I said, coming up behind her and wrapping my arms around her waist. I'd discarded my duffle under one of the rows of seats. Bella gasped and turned, clearly surprised that I'd actually come to see her off.

"Edward!" she said as she threw her arms around my neck. Kissing her, it felt like we'd been separated for weeks, not a few hours. Besides, I didn't count seeing her at practice. I couldn't do _this_ at practice. When I pulled away, Bella smiled. "I'm not even at my gate yet. I can't believe you're here."

"Why not," I said. "Isn't that something any good boyf -" The sentence died on my lips.

Bella promptly picked up my slack. "Yes, it's something any good boyfriend would do for his girlfriend. But I can still be surprised, can't I?" God, I really did love this girl. Putting my arm around her, I turned us back to the windows. The activity of the planes taxiing, the blinking lights of the runways, the general bustle served as a good distraction. Meanwhile, the ticket burned a hole in my back pocket.

"Wanna take a walk with me?" Bella asked. I nodded and we headed off in the direction of the shops and eateries that formed the center of the airport. It was a small terminal; nothing like O'Hare or any of the other big city international airports. But it had a charm to it, I supposed. Bella stopped and purchased a magazine and some Twizzlers. I bought a coffee and a bottled water for her. Then we made our way back to the waiting area. Bella stuffed the items in her small carry-on and looked up at me expectantly.

"Thank you for seeing me off, Edward," she said, leaning against me and hugging me. "It means a lot." She pulled me down to her for a kiss and then released me. "And I'm so glad I have a boyfriend who cares enough to make the trip."

I kissed her again, desperate for her lips. "You're welcome. And of course I'd make the trip." As they called the flight, Bella stooped and grabbed her bag. Then I turned and pulled my own off the floor and slung it over my shoulder. Her mouth dropped open.

"Wh-what are you doing? I-Is your flight leaving now, too?"

"Yup."

"What gate?" Bella seemed confused that I had neglected to tell her this.

"Ten."

"I don't understand, Edward." I leaned down and gave her another kiss, pulling her against me and squeezing hard. Somehow willing her to understand.

"I just didn't think you should have to spend another holiday alone, with just your dad," I said. When her expression didn't change, I kept going. _Shit. Was this a bad idea?_ "Look, I figure, you've got me. I'm in your life. So…I don't think these things are for trudging through all by yourself. Not when you have someone. Right?"

"Right," Bella finally whispered, her eyes blinking back tears. "_Thank you_." She took my hand in hers and gave it a firm squeeze. Then she looked up at me again. "You sure? I mean, this is a lot all at once. Charlie, Thanksgiving, Washington. All of it."

I nodded. "Hey, listen. Thanksgiving at the Cullen house is…well, let's just say there's never a dull moment. I think I'm up for the challenge."

"Okay, then." With another glance at me, Bella smiled and led the way to our gate.

In another stroke of luck, Bella's seat was only one row behind my own, and early into our flight, the man sitting next to her kindly allowed me to swap seats with him for a while. Bella took my hand in hers again, but looked out the window. I decided to let her begin the discussion; I wondered if she would.

"I had a brother, Edward," she said finally. _Guess that answers my question._ I stayed silent but met her gaze. "Matt was 10 years older than me. He died when I was 11." In what I hoped was a clear gesture of support, I leaned over to Bella and kissed her, caressing her face with my free hand.

"I'm so sorry, Bella," I said.

"Thanks," she replied. Then she was silent again for a minute or two. "He rowed for the Brown crew, Edward, and he got hurt during a race. It's why my dad hates that I am part of the same crew…and why I refuse to quit coxing."

"Bella, I…I saw the photo your family gave to the team," I confessed, needing to come clean. "Carlisle only told me the basics, but I'd heard about Matt. I never knew his name, though, and never put it together. His story, you know, has become somewhat of a legend."

She recovered from her surprise quickly, then smiled sadly and nodded. "Charlie sent that a few weeks ago. I was shocked, honestly. Maybe he's coming to terms with it. As for the 'legend,' it was apparently such a freak accident, it seemed fantastic from the beginning. Matt lingered in a coma for three weeks. Charlie and Renee decided then to take him off life support."

"It must have been horrible for all of you," I offered.

"It was," Bella said. "I remember being in the hospital a lot, sleeping in the waiting room, my dad coming as soon as his shifts were over. We had him airlifted back to Washington, convinced that being with family would make a difference. Renee didn't deal with Matt's death well. None of us did. But she left my dad soon after. Went to go find herself or something. Found Phil instead."

"You could have told me, Bella," I said softly. "I would have understood."

"I know, but I was afraid everyone - you especially - would treat me differently. Like I was breakable," she explained. "I needed you to respect me as _me_, not as Matt Swan's sister. I had to earn my place with the team."

I got that. Really I did. But it only eased the sting a little. "I think you've done more than earn it, coxie," I said, doing my best to listen and be a good…boyfriend. I smiled a little at the new title. "And I swear to you I'll keep your secret. If that's what you want me to do. I promise."

Bella squeezed my hand again and began rubbing circles on my skin with her thumb. "Thank you," she said again. "I know you will."

"Bella, I gotta ask, though - did everyone else know but me?" I couldn't hide the hurt in my voice this time. She looked over at me with a bit of panic and something else in her stare. "I mean, shit, Emmett kept hinting around at all this shit - kept telling me you would never quit, like he knew why. And Alice - well, she flat-out fucking lied to me and told me you were an only child!"

"Oh, shit, Edward," Bella replied, the air leaving her lungs. "I never meant for anyone to know, but Ali's my dearest friend and we're both from Forks. I never told her to lie, but I'm sure she did it to protect me. And I guess, technically, she was being accurate. As for Emmett, well, he's strangely perceptive for an oaf. And you know how he and Alice are tight…I think she just filled in the blanks for him. And Jasper -" I groaned as she ticked off yet another name of the people in our social circle "- he's Alice's boyfriend. That one was hard to avoid."

Disengaging from Bella's grasp, I let my head fall into my hands. They all fucking knew. For god knew how long. Again, I felt like a damn fool for not pushing Bella to tell me. For not _somehow _getting it sooner.

"Edward, hey," Bella said in my ear. "Please don't be mad at me. I'm so, _so _sorry I kept this from you. I'm just…I don't know what else to say but that I'm sorry."

"I do understand, Bella. And I'm not mad. But I just feel like an ass for not…I don't know…for not being the kind of person you _wanted_ to confide in," I said, feeling like an emo ass. "And I was so dense that I just didn't see it. God, even Emmett was more perceptive. Shit."

Bella took my face between her palms.

"Edward Cullen, please listen to me," she said softly, but without wavering. "The fact that you let me come to you with this - even though it must have eaten you up inside - speaks volumes about exactly the _kind_ of person you are. That you are here with me right now shows just how much you care, and that means more to me than any of that other stuff. And I love that you care about me enough to put yourself on a plane and go to Washington, to have Thanksgiving with me and Charlie."

"I do," I said simply.

"I _know_," she replied, kissing me. "You're an amazing man." I kissed her, relishing the sensation of her soft lips and wet tongue before reminding myself where we were. Then I kissed her nose and told her I'd better get back to my seat. As I sat down again and laid my head back against the seat, the reality of what I was doing hit me: I'd jumped on a plane with Bella, left my folks a message that I wasn't coming home for Thanksgiving, and was now on my way to Forks, Washington. To meet Charlie.

Suddenly, the lump in my throat made swallowing difficult.

_Just breathe, Cullen. How bad could it be?_

_A/N: Okay, gang, please let me know what you thought of this chapter. We had a few twists and revelations. Thank you, as always, for reading._

_On a side note, I'm so excited to tell you that Power Ten has been nominated for a Twinklings Walk of Fame Hidden Gem Award. Lots of other great fics are keeping mine company, and I'm just so tickled that some of you deemed mine good enough to be nominated! Voting is open now, until January 31, so go check it out, along with the other fics, at http:/twinklingswfa(dot)blogspot(dot)com and cast your vote!_


	12. Chapter 12: A little R & R

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic. And thanks as always to Barbi, Megsly, Forever_Liz and Hez for letting me send them my rough drafts to get their skittles in return. _

_Again, I find myself apologizing for the long hiatus. What can I say, except RL has been distracting. This was a big chapter, and I wanted it to be perfect. Hope it is. Enjoy._

**Chapter 12**: A little R&R

As the plane landed, I watched the wing flap and bounce along the runway, the motion choking me even more. Panic bubbled up in my chest and threatened to spill out the only way it knew how. The irony of the fact that I'd managed the whole flight without nausea didn't escape me as I reached for the airsickness bag. _Better safe than sorry._

We taxied and I breathed deeply, trying to regain control of my stomach and nerve. Bella would be pissed if I backed out now that we were in Washington, so there was nothing to do but suck it up and hope for the best. _Meanwhile expecting the worst._

Charlie Swan was the police chief in Forks. Which meant he had at least one gun. And it being Washington and the wilderness, he probably owned _more than one._ Distractedly, I wondered if you really could outrun bullets by working the zigzag method of retreat. I'd seen it on TV once. Though, with my luck, I'd run off and get lost in the woods and die of exposure. _Fucking great._

"Edward?" Bella's tentative voice jolted me from my wallowing. She stood next to my seat, her face expectant and worried. I stood quickly and took my bag out of the overhead compartment.

"Sorry - spacing out, I guess," I offered as I followed her out of the plane and into the airport. Bella glanced at me often as we waited outside for the taxi; she'd called for one once we got our luggage and had assured her father she didn't need a police escort home.

"Bella, did you happen to mention to your dad that I was with you?" I asked, figuring either way I was screwed. So many things were stacked against me already, and I hadn't even met the guy: I was a man, coming home with his daughter - that was problematic on a few basic levels; I was a rower; and I was a senior rower - for Brown University. To me, my presence seemed to signify all the things that Chief Swan didn't want to have in his life.

"Yeah, I told him I had someone with me, and that it was a last-minute change of plans," she said quietly, staring at the concrete under our feet. "It's not a lie. With my dad, though, it's just a matter of not coughing up every detail right away."

I swore under my breath. "Coxie, he's already going to hate me for coming here with you, as your boyfriend, unannounced. When he learns of the other stuff - and he will – he's going to want to put me on the next flight away from _you_."

Bella rolled her eyes and shoved me lightly with her shoulder. "You worry too much, Strokie. Charlie's going to be a little rough at first, but when he gets to know you, he'll love you. Trust me."

_Sure. He won't be able to resist the charms of Edward Cullen._ Her reassurance had no effect on me. And the taxi ride to her house was torturous and altogether too fast. But she held my hand the whole way there, which did keep me from jumping out of the moving car. If things went sour, I reasoned, I could always just turn around and get a flight back to…somewhere. The taxi pulled up to a white Cape-style house with the tell-tale police cruiser in the driveway. Charlie was home. Waiting. I paid the cab driver and let Bella get out first while I retrieved our bags from the trunk.

_Now or never, Cullen._

Bella looped her arm around one of mine, since my hands were full, and we walked up the front steps. I hung back slightly when the door whipped open and Bella all but got gobbled up by the house. Silence and then…familiar brown eyes, a mustache, a shiny badge…and a gun, looked to me. Feeling like maybe he'd simply believe it if I told him Bella'd hired me to be her bellhop for the holiday, I put the bags down and extended my right hand.

"Chief Swan, sir, I'm Edward Cullen. It's so nice to meet you," I said, telling my voice not to make me look like the sissy I so was at this moment. I held Charlie's intense, scrutinizing gaze for what seemed like forever. His handshake was firm and I returned it, keeping our hands locked in a battle of wills. Then I added, "Sorry about the short-notice of my accompanying Bella, sir. If you'd like, I can call a local motel…"

"Shut it, Edward," Bella finished, pulling me inside by my coat. Charlie backed up and let me inside so I could deposit the bags in the entryway. I didn't know what to do with myself as the three of us squeezed into the small space. From the corner of my eye, I saw Bella elbow Charlie in the gut. He wheezed and coughed, looked at her, and then focused on me.

"Edward. Nice to meet you," he said, his face perfect for poker and his voice just as even. "Are you a friend of Bella's from school?" Bella nodded, looking at me like she wanted me to play along. I decided to lay my cards on the table right away. No sense in delaying his reaction, I reasoned. At least I was still packed.

"Actually, I'm her boyfriend," I said firmly, not breaking my eye contact with the chief. "I'm a senior at Brown and a member of the crew team, which is how your daughter and I met. I respect the hell out of Bella and I think she's amazing. I'm majoring in political science, my family is from Chicago and I decided to surprise Bella by coming with her to Forks for Thanksgiving, so don't be mad at her, sir. I thought it would be nice to meet you and spend the holiday with her. Just tell me if I'm staying or leaving, and that will be all I need to hear."

Charlie and Bella's mouths dropped open slightly as I stood back and waited for an answer. Somewhere along the way, I'd rediscovered my nut sack. What a relief. Even if it was only to have it shot off by my girlfriend's father.

"Bags go upstairs. You can stay in the spare room at the top of the landing," the chief said to me. I exhaled loudly. Charlie turned away to hang his gun belt on a coat hook by the door and then turned back to us. "Bells, you must be exhausted. Your bedroom is ready, so you can just crash. I can make you breakfast when you get up…if you'd like."

Bella smiled and threw her arms around her father's neck. She whispered something in his ear, to which he nodded and returned her embrace. Then the two of them left me standing in the entry. Now _really_ feeling like a damned bellhop, I lugged our bags upstairs, leaving mine outside the spare room and walking down the short hall to what I assumed was Bella's room. It was just the right amount of girly, with the obligatory desk with work lamp, twin bed, bookcase crammed full and a few figurines on a small shelf to the right of the window.

"You must be tired," Bella said, causing me to jump halfway across the room. She laughed when I turned to look at her, then to the open door as if Charlie was on her heels. Taking steps to close the distance between us, Bella shoved off my jacket and pushed me down onto her bed. "Edward, please relax. You totally passed the Charlie Swan test. Frankly, you shocked the shit out of me, too."

Leaning over, Bella kissed me, igniting the sex drive I'd completely forgotten I had until now. Reluctantly, I gently pushed her shoulders to separate us. I _was_ totally exhausted from our trip, despite it only being 1:30 in the morning. Usually, I'd be hitting my stride right about now. And I knew damn well that Charlie probably had Bella's room bugged.

"Thanks…I guess," I said, easing Bella into my lap so her legs were draped across my own. When she made another attempt at seducing me, I shoved my fears aside for a moment and enjoyed the weight of her body against mine. Kissing Bella was never enough, though, and we needed to stop this train before it derailed. Gently immobilizing her, I pulled away. "No, Bella." When she pouted, I elaborated. "Your dad? Right downstairs? And probably on his way up here?"

"Edward, I've always had this fantasy of having sex on my childhood bed," she said with a wicked grin. "Won't you help me with that? It's so…taboo, especially with Charlie in the house."

"No fucking way," I said without a pause. "Trust me, I want to have sex with you. But not like this. Not with your dad here. I value my life and my manhood too much." I kissed her hard and hugged her tightly, trying to convey my affection even though I was refusing her advances. Since when had I become the chivalrous one? With a resigned sigh, Bella slumped against me and tucked her head under my chin. We sat there for a few minutes in silence. Heavy and deliberate footsteps coming up the stairs had her off my lap in a flash.

"Um, Edward, you're staying down the hall in the spare room," Charlie said as his shrewd eyes bounced between me and Bella. The man missed nothing, I was sure. He ran a weathered hand through his thick hair and added, most likely for effect, "And I'm right next door, so…knock if you need anything. I…um…I'm a pretty light sleeper, so…"

_Loud and clear, Chief._

"Yes, sir, and thank you again," I said, moving away from Bella and toward the door. She blew me a kiss and winked as I turned fire hydrant red. "Um, 'night, Bella." Charlie stood back to allow me passage and followed me past his own room to where I'd be staying. This must have been Matt's bedroom. Any traces of ownership, however, had long-since been erased. Charlie had a desk with computer against one wall, and a foldout couch along the other, which he promptly pulled out for me. After a quick retreat, he returned with a pile of sheets and blankets.

"Oh, I can make the bed up, sir - you don't have to do that," I said, trying to be as inconvenient as possible. I felt his eyes on me, sizing me up, no doubt trying to ascertain my intentions and character.

"I like your no bullshit attitude, Edward," he said to my back. I stopped tucking in the sheets and faced him. "I appreciate you being upfront with me. Not that I'm going to pretend I approve of…your choice of athletics, but that's your choice."

"Chief, sir, I'm not trying to overstep here, but Bella really loves the sport," I said, my heart thundering in my chest, "…and she does it for her, her brother and his memory. I just wanted you to know…in case she's never told you."

Charlie just stood there. I examined the window, trying to calculate my odds of survival if I had to jump through it. But then he walked to the door like he was simply going to leave.

"Good night, Edward," he said. Poker faced again. "Sleep well."

_Yeah, right. With one eye open, that is._

Had my head even hit the pillow before I'd fallen asleep, I wondered. I woke up to sleet tapping a rhythm on the window and the distant rumble of thunder. Rolling over, I located my cell and sent Bella a text.

_**You awake, coxie?**_ Her response was almost immediate.

_**Yep. Woke up when my dad left. How'd u sleep, Strokie?**_

_**Like a baby. Must've felt safe w/ur dad and all the weapons. ;)**_

_**Shut it. He only has two guns. U gonna come and wake me up right?**_

I groaned and rolled over to face the window. Was Bella trying to get me killed? After she reassured me via text that Charlie had gone to the station for a few hours, I decided to live dangerously. Then I ran down the hall and made Bella's long-standing fantasy a reality.

"You're doing it wrong, Strokie."

"Bella, there's no way to screw up stuffing."

"Ohhh, don't let my dad hear you say that."

"Woman, I have talents the likes of which you've never seen," I boasted, threatening her with a spoon full of wet stuffing mix. The turkey was already roasting in the over and Bella and I were preparing the side dishes at her insistence. Charlie, for his part, was smartly steering clear of the kitchen. Though every once in a while I could hear his recliner creak as if he were checking on us.

She eyed me conspiratorially. "_More_ talents? You cook, you stroke, you rock my world… Edward, I don't think I can handle any more talents. I might explode."

I laughed, touching the spoon to her chin and leaving a few globs behind. After putting the dish of stuffing into the oven, I stood behind Bella to pester her while she peeled potatoes. She slapped my hands a few times, giggling and squirming under my caresses, before I finally retreated in case Charlie was listening and planning on making an appearance. Watching Bella bent over the kitchen sink had me replaying this morning's activities in my head, and I had to force myself to lock them away for the time being. I could tell Bella wanted this Thanksgiving to be an improvement over past years, and I intended to help her with that - by not screwing things up. My thoughts drifted to my parents, probably sitting at the ridiculously large dining room table, at either end, silently reading the paper: my mother scouring the society pages for the latest wedding announcements, my father reading the stocks. I hadn't heard from them in reply to the message I'd left. Obviously, they didn't miss me.

"Hey, why the long face, Strokie?" Bella's sing-song question jolted me out of my self-loathing. Awkwardly I rearranged my features into a smile and then I kissed her nose.

"Nothing," I said. When the look on Bella's face called, "bullshit," I elaborated.

"Edward, I'm sure they miss you," she assured me, stroking my jaw. "They're probably just busy with dinner stuff and getting ready, right? Aren't they having a party tonight?"

I shrugged. Who in their right mind would attend a stuffy party _on_ Thanksgiving? Didn't people spend the holiday with their family, giving thanks and not discussing medicinal research, hospital business, stocks, portfolios, designer crap and the latest gossip?

Bella tugged on my shirt and pulled me down to her, kissing me hard enough to force the thoughts from my mind. "Don't worry about them, Edward. You're here, with me, which is exactly where you're supposed to be," she said with a smile. "It _feels_ right for you to be here. And I'm so glad you are." She kissed me again before returning to the sink.

After getting some direction from Bella, I set the table and helped with the dishes. We sat down an hour later in the small kitchen with the dressed up table. Charlie said grace and Bella squeezed my hand as he finished, adding he was thankful for the company. The chief eagerly dug into the dishes and stuffed his plate full of turkey and fixings. Bella and I followed after he took the first loaded bite and hummed his approval.

"This is delicious," he said, already reloading his fork. "Bells, excellent job, as always."

"Thanks, Dad, but Edward helped with everything," she said. "And he made the stuffing from scratch." Charlie's brows shot up so high I thought they'd jump off his forehead.

"Edward? Really? Wow. Umm…great job. Thanks."

"You're welcome, Chief," I answered. We ate in silence for a while, with Bella glancing up at me periodically and throwing knowing smiles in my direction. Charlie, I saw out of my peripheral vision, glanced up at the two of us a few times, before quickly ducking his head again to focus on his plate. Bella and I cleared the dishes and Bella retrieved the pumpkin and apple pies. Those went over big with Charlie, and by the time we'd finished, all three of us were leaning back in our chairs, stuffed and sleepy. Bella shooed both of us into the living room to watch the football game while she cleaned up, despite my protests. After a few minutes of rather uncomfortable silence, Charlie cleared his throat.

"Thank you, Edward," he said gruffly. When I turned toward him with a questioning look, he added, "For coming with Bella. I know the holidays aren't easy for her since… Thanks."

I nodded in reply, but wasn't sure what to say. Briefly, I listened to the gentle but constant clink of Bella washing dishes in the kitchen. The sound soothed me for some reason.

"Look, I know I've been less than supportive of Bella and her rowing, but…I _am_ trying," Charlie added. "Losing my son in that freak accident tore this family apart. I just don't know why she gravitated to it. And I know she won't quit."

I was rendered nearly speechless with his confession. "Sir, she truly loves it, as do I," I said honestly. "A while back Bella told me she's never felt like she really belonged. Never fit in like she thought she should. But as part of our team, she finally feels that. I've watched her grow in the sport, and it's given her so much. I'm so sorry for your loss, but Bella feels a connection to crew that has a lot to do with her brother and much more to do with being part of something bigger than her. And trust me when I say this: when you love something that much, no one can tell you to stop."

Charlie looked at me with glassy eyes, and for a moment I thought I'd overstepped my bounds - by a lot.

"You sound a lot like Matt," he said sadly. "He always told me and his mother how much he loved rowing. Said there was nothing else like it. That he never felt as at-peace as when he was on the water. Like it was some communion with God or something." Charlie shook his head but smiled.

I nodded emphatically. "I agree with him, sir. It's really hard to explain, but for those of us who do it, there is something otherworldly that happens out there. I like that idea - of a special communion of sorts."

"Then I'm sure Matt was happy when he…when he passed," Charlie said with a quick sniff. "If that's what he believed, then I have to believe he was at peace." I just nodded again, knowing words would be woefully inadequate.

"Bella just wants you to be proud of her accomplishments," I said quietly. He looked at me and nodded now.

"I am. Always have been," he said thickly.

"Sir, might I suggest…that you maybe come to one of our races in the spring? I could send you the info for a few of them, if you'd like," I offered. He paused and then took a small notepad from his shirt pocket and a pen and thrust it into my hands. With my heart racing, I wrote down the dates and locations of a few of our spring races, along with my cell number and email. In case he wanted to get in touch with me. I handed it back and then Charlie lightly patted me on the leg before settling back into his recliner. Relieved that I'd survived our conversation - and that it seemed to go well - I did the same, sinking into the couch cushions.

The turkey must have taken its toll, because the next thing I remembered was a gentle hand shaking me awake. Then soft lips on mine. I opened my eyes to see brown ones looking back at me, a curtain of mahogany hair around us. Bella's face was full of emotion and it puzzled me.

"Hi," I said. "You okay?"

Bella nodded and kissed me hard. "More than okay." She knelt between my legs so we were at eye level. "That took amazing guts - to say what you did to my dad. No one has ever…you amaze me, Edward Cullen." Another passionate kiss woke me completely. I pulled away, silently asking her how she knew. "I overheard some of it before, and then when my dad went up to bed, he stopped and talked to me about it.

"He said you set him straight on a few things…and that he might come to one of our races," she said softly, almost as if she had a hard time believing he'd actually said it at all. "I just…I can't believe it. I don't know how you did it, but you did."

Bella threw her arms around my neck and pressed herself to me as she kissed me. I wrapped my arms around her, pouring every ounce of my affection for her into the gesture. Then I scooped her up and laid us back on the couch.

"You're worth the risk, Bella," I said half-jokingly when she stopped for air. "We just talked. Maybe that was all your dad needed - another perspective. Like I said, there isn't anything I wouldn't do for you." My heart swelled as I fought the urge to tell her more. I wasn't sure if this was the right time to tell her exactly how I felt. The truth was, she'd been everything to me since that first day on the dock. _Yep, I was a goner from the word go. _Instead, I ran my fingers down her spine while my other hand cradled her head as we faced each other. Bella shivered and hitched her leg over mine, kissing my chin, my jaw, my neck and finally my lips.

She pulled back, immediately transfixing me with her gaze. I dove into those dark brown pools swimming with emotion. Never surfacing sounded fine with me.

"I love you, Edward."

I'd wanted to tell Bella the same thing. The three words that had at first been a whisper, then a shout in my own head for what seemed like forever, were suddenly spoken to _me_. And it was the perfect sound. I clutched her even tighter against me, kissing her neck and inhaling her scent through my nostrils. This woman, full of fire, determination and love, was mine. Mine.

"God, I love you too, Bella."

My mouth found hers and my hands sought her skin. My ears tuned out all noise except the soft sounds that were coming from Bella as my fingers and lips worked. My nose was full of her perfume and the scent that was naturally her, and behind my eyelids, I saw fireworks and flashes of light as my adrenaline ratcheted.

With a feverish pace, my mouth worked its way from her lips down to her jaw and neck, pausing to suck on her earlobe. I eased her sweater over her shoulder, along with her bra strap, and kissed and licked the skin I exposed. Bella ground her hips against mine, and we both moaned softly at the contact, even through our pants. When her shoulder wasn't enough, I slipped my hand below the hem of her sweater, slid her bra up and palmed her breast. Bella rewarded me with a sigh and tilted her head back.

Mindful of where we were and warring with my thirst to get Bella naked and under me, instead, I unbuttoned her pants and eased my fingers below the waistband of her underwear. The wetness I felt drove me insane with desire, and I bit back a groan as Bella reciprocated by unzipping my pants and shoving her hand inside them. We kept up the rocking motion as our fingers worked – hers clenched around me and sliding up and down and mine inside her wet, hot flesh and rubbing circles in the small knot of nerves above.

We kissed to keep from making noise, but with our panting, it was difficult at best. Any moment I feared Charlie thundering down the stairs, but I could tell Bella was close, and I wanted to give her this. She seemed just as determined as she skillfully brought me to the edge of my restraint.

Finally, I whispered in her ear, "Come for me." And seconds later, with her lips against mine, she did. Her body straightened and tensed, while the flesh around my fingers clenched and moistened even more. It was too much for me to resist, and with a ragged breath I came, on Bella's hand and in my pants. After, we laid there kissing and stroking each other gently. I couldn't tear myself away.

"I can't believe we just did that," Bella said with a giggle. Her beautiful face flushed even more. "Like two high school kids."

"I loved it," I said, kissing her. "Thank you." After I extracted my fingers, Bella climbed up, rearranged her clothing, and disappeared, only to return with a few tissues. She cleaned me up, despite my embarrassed protests, and then pulled me upright on the couch.

"That was fun," she said, her hands running up my thighs. My body immediately responded to her, again, and I used my hands to stop the progress of hers.

"Bella, unless you plan on getting completely naked this time - and I think that would _really_ be pressing our good luck here - I suggest you stop before I get any more ideas," I whispered hoarsely. She pouted but stopped, hugging me instead.

"You make me happy, Strokie," she said. I could feel her smile.

"And you, me, coxie," I answered. "Come on. Let's get you to bed."

Charlie insisted on bringing us all the way to the airport on Sunday morning. He reasoned it was his one day off to do with whatever he pleased. I thought it was simply hard for him to let his little girl go back to the east coast; and I couldn't blame him. Charlie had taken me fishing the day before, and after freezing my balls off for three hours and watching him catch the only fish not already frozen in the pond, he'd seemed satisfied with me and his ability to hunt and gather. Though we didn't talk as much about Matt and rowing as we had on Thanksgiving, we did touch on it a bit. I told him about my involvement as the team's stroke, how it meant that Bella and I worked very closely as our own little team, and that there were never any races on the Seekonk now. It went without saying that it was mostly due to Matt's accident all those years ago.

The chief was a good man; that much was clear. He guarded his daughter - his remaining child - like the priceless treasure I agreed she was. Hopefully I had impressed upon him that I'd do the same as her boyfriend.

"Dad, thank you so much," Bella said, reaching up to wrap her arms around Charlie's neck and then kiss him on the cheek. "We had a great time. It was a good Thanksgiving." Charlie's eyes met hers and he nodded, squeezing her.

"It was."

I stepped forward to shake his hand again. "Thank you again, Chief. I sure do appreciate the hospitality," I said. "It was the best Thanksgiving I've had in years." I smiled. Charlie smiled back, though it was restrained.

"You're welcome, Edward," he said. "Come back anytime."

Bella grabbed her carry-on and told her dad goodbye and that she loved him. Then she took my hand. Charlie's hard gaze met mine as we parted.

Leaning over, he whispered to me, "Take care of her, Edward. And thank you." I nodded my assent and shook his hand one more time. Then we walked to our gate. Once we were settled in our seats - this time I made sure Bella and I were next to each other - Bella turned to me and kissed me.

"That was a really nice Thanksgiving," she said. "And I have a feeling I have you to thank for that."

"Nah. Like you said - I was just my charming self," I quipped. "But it was such a nice change from what I'm used to. It was nice. Thanks for not putting me on the first plane back to Rhode Island. Or Chicago."

"Wouldn't have dreamed of it," she said with a grin. "There's nothing better than having the man you love with you during the holidays."

I kissed her hand. "Love you, too, Bella." As we taxied, a thought sprang to my mind. It was a bit early to ask, but I couldn't resist.

"Bella, I know it's early and all, but I wanted to ask…would you come with me to the C.R.A.S.H. B sprints in Boston? They're in February."

Her eyes lit up with the realization of what I'd just asked her. As an entrant, rowers were each allowed one person to coach them during their erg races. I wanted Bella there to cox me and demand only the best from each race.

"Edward, I'd love to!" she exclaimed, hugging me fiercely. "You really want _me_ there? Not Coach or Alice?" I shook my head, holding her chin so she could see my face clearly.

"There's no one else I'd rather have there," I said sincerely before kissing her nose. Then I added with a smirk, "Are you going to be able to crack the whip on me there, amongst hundreds of other rowers and their coaches?"

Bella's expression changed. With a wicked grin, she licked her lips and nodded. "You know I will, Strokie. It's what I live for - and what I do best."

_A/N: For all of you who are wondering, the C.R.A.S.H. B sprints are held each February in Boston. Thousands of rowers gather to compete in erg races for the best time. Though I've never been, I've heard it's a blast…and a pukefest. Sorry. But I had to go there. This is a big deal for our Strokeward, and him asking Bella is just like saying, "Will you be my Valentine?" Hope you enjoyed this, and thank you for sticking around!_

_To all of you, an early Happy Valentine's Day!_


	13. Chapter 13: No teabagging allowed

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic. And thanks as always to Barbi, Megsly, Forever_Liz and Hez for letting me send them my rough drafts to get their skittles in return. Okay, gang, things are going to get dramatic in the Cullen house. Keep in mind this is not the usual cast of characters we all know and love. So just go with it and enjoy!_

**Glossary:**

_**Tea-bagging: **__when a rower pretends to row hard. A telltale sign is the tiny to non-existent puddles the oar makes. (A major no-no in rowing.)_

**Chapter 13**: No tea-bagging allowed

"Cullen, don't you dare phone this in! No tea-bagging! Just for that, give me another Power Ten! And…one!"

Asking Bella to help me train for the C.R.A.S.H.-B sprints in February had turned out to be a blessing and a curse. A blessing because she'd helped me shave down my time to under 6:30. A curse because that meant I was puking a lot more than normal, and her shrill voice seemed to ring in my ears - even when I was alone.

"Five! Come on, Cullen, drive with the legs!" she yelled, inches from my sweaty, reddish-purple, exasperated face. And, just for the record, I was _not_ tea-bagging. That particular moment, when Bella decided my drive had faltered for a moment, was me trying to swallow back the bile that had forced its way into my mouth. Puking was inevitable, but I just didn't want to stop mid-erg test for it. But I decided to take that issue up with my cox _after_ I'd finished.

"Finish strong!" she demanded as I fought my way through the last 100 meters. My body wasn't just burning; it was now completely numb. Though the sensation shouldn't have unnerved me for all the times I'd experienced it, it still left me feeling completely unable to control my own movements. I was, at this point, a human machine. Distractedly, I wondered if Bella would have to pry my fingers - and ass - away from the erg when I finished.

Of course, my coxie had the trash can close by, just for me, and as I heaved into it, I took the gesture to be a form of endearment from her to me. _How sweet of her. _ Quite possibly, all of the rowing had made me delirious. We'd been at this since we got back from Thanksgiving break, and I asked Bella to coach me for the erg race in Boston in February. She and I met at the boathouse twice a day: in the morning for our run and weight training and after classes for the erg.

Coach Carlisle and Coach Esme both allowed us some flexibility in the winter, as long as we made the time in the gym and on the ergs. I often lifted with Emmett or Jasper, and Bella often coxed them with me on the ergs. Alice and Bella sometimes alternated with coxing us during the winter, but since Bella needed to be in top coxing form with me for February, Alice let her boss us around the majority of the time. Even the girls' crew seemed impressed with the changes in my coxie. Bella seemed to love it.

"Bella, I gotta say, you're becoming one tough little bitch," Alice said, watching the two of us from her perch beside Jasper. Though he wasn't training for the sprints, Alice liked coxing Jasper on the erg. He, in turn, liked it when she bossed him around. "I, for one, would not want to meet up with you in a darkened alley."

Bella laughed, handing me a towel. "Thanks, Alice. I'm absolutely taking that as a compliment!"

"Well, you should," she said happily. "I've never seen Edward this beat up or breathless before." She said that second part with a smirk that even I noticed. _Very funny, Alice._

"What can I say?" I said with some effort when my voice finally returned. "Bella knows what to do to whip my ass into submission."

"And you'll _never_ hear him complain about that," Bella said with a rather devious glance in my direction. I smiled back at her like the devil I was, and just when I thought she might mount me right on the erg, I heard Emmett's overly loud throat-clearing.

"Guys, please," he begged from his position on the chest press bench. Felix, one of the other guys in his four, was spotting him. "I'm trying to keep my lunch down over here."

"You're just bitter because you're almost three months into your relationship with Rose and she hasn't put out yet," Jasper stated, much to Emmett's chagrin. Luckily Rosalie wasn't in the boathouse, or Jasper would have had another asshole. I grimaced for Emmett.

"Shut it, Jizzper," Emmett growled. "We're only two months in, really, and it's okay. Rose treats me right - make no mistake - but neither of us are rushing things because we want this to work out." Truthfully, it had to be something special, since neither of them was known for their prudish ways. I'd commended Emmett more than once on his steadfastness. He'd confessed that he'd do just about anything for Rose. This did not surprise me - or Jasper - in the least.

"Just keep telling yourself that, McCarty," I quipped. Emmett knew we were all just busting his balls, but apparently, it was still a sore subject. Not that I could blame him. Despite his commitment to Rose, he still wasn't getting any.

Later, walking out of the boathouse with my arm snuggly around Bella's shoulders, I attempted to air my grievance on my erg performance. "Coxie, just so you know, I was _not_ tea-bagging you on the erg test. Besides, I don't think you can do that, technically, while erging. It's just a rowing thing."

She jabbed me in the ribs. "Don't care. Call 'em like I see 'em, and you weren't pulling hard," she said, kissing me when I objected. It was pointless to continue the argument. _Next time, Bella gets puked on._ I chuckled to myself.

"Whatever. You're just lucky I love you," I joked, giving her a squeeze. Saying those words to Bella felt so good, but I was still adjusting to verbalizing them. "So, what time are you and Alice coming over tonight? Six?" Bella nodded. The girls had made dinner plans with me and Jasper - a double date of sorts. If Jasper didn't want to cook, though, we were going to go out.

I drove Bella back to her and Alice's dorm, already counting the hours in my head until she appeared on my doorstep. _You are such a chick, Cullen._ But my coxie had other ideas.

"Alice won't be back for at least an hour, Strokie," she said, drawing circles on my thigh with her fingernail. It took me about a minute to find a parking spot - a remarkable feat up on the East Side. We practically ran to her building and I even waved to Mr. Navy SEAL on our way down the hall. I could do a lot in an hour.

"Edward, I _want_ to come," Bella practically whined. We'd been discussing the horrors that awaited us at the Cullen "family" Christmas in Chicago. My wonderful, stubborn girlfriend, for some unknown reason, told me she wanted to spend it with me and my parents. She was unrelenting and so was I. "They can't be as bad as you think they are. They'll have to be nice. I'm a stranger."

"Bella, love, that's shoddy reasoning no matter how you look at it," I told her. "It's a really nice gesture, but…can't we just spend it in Forks? Or you can go home and I'll stay here. Even _I_ don't think I'm up for it this year, given their lack of…_anything_ when I didn't come home for Thanksgiving." My parents, true to form, had never called me. A week later, my father called me about some mail I'd gotten and never even mentioned it. "Just…no."

"Strokie, I have ways of blackmailing you, you know," Bella said with a smirk. Visions of sexual deprivation and even more punishing erg training sessions sprang to my mind and I groaned. Bella knew exactly how to make my life a living hell.

"Why are you so determined to go and be miserable with me in Chicago?"

"Well, for one, I've never been there," she said, her tone all business and debate team-ish. "Two, as your girlfriend, it is my right and duty to accompany you to at least one holiday _whatever_ with your parents. Three, I want to meet them. And four, I'm not scared of them. If they act like the assholes you paint them as, we'll get a flight back to Providence. See?"

"Sounds like you've got it all figured out," I commented dryly.

"Is that your white flag I see?" she asked with a smirk. I rolled my eyes but said yes. Secretly, I decided I'd book us a return flight for the day after we arrived - just in case it all went to shit. Besides, if my parents' fucking Yule ball didn't disgust her into leaving, nothing would.

"You're going to need a nice dress, coxie," I said.

"No problem," she answered.

"And Tums, earplugs, aspirin, lots of booze and possibly a lobotomy," I added, just for dramatic effect. Bella rolled her eyes this time and kissed me.

"Relax, Edward. It will be fine," she said. Glad one of us was sure.

One week later, we were loading our bags into a sleek black car that my father had sent to the airport to pick us up. Bella seemed surprised with our mode of transportation, but I pressed on, refusing the driver's help and ushering Bella into the back seat. We spent the drive from O-Hare to the Evanston section of the North Shore in virtual silence. My coxie seemed entranced by all of the scenery, and her eyes widened when we transitioned into the mansion and gated suburban paradise my parents called home. When we pulled into the long semi-circular drive, she started fidgeting with her jeans, and I grabbed her hand to still it.

"No backing out now, coxie," I reminded with a smile. Bella straightened and smiled at me, a look of determination casting a shadow over her otherwise sunny expression. The driver again jumped out to get our bags, but I insistently assured him we were fine. With our duffel bags in one hand, I grasped Bella's hand with the other and the two of us walked up to the grand entrance.

"Edward, your parents' house is magnificent," Bella whispered. I gave the heavy iron lion's head on the door two solid knocks. "It's amazing!"

"When we get settled, if you'd like, I'll give you the grand tour," I said mischievously, before I was silenced by the door opening. Our butler Hank stood on the other side, and once he saw me and Bella, a wide smile stretched his wrinkled skin.

"Edward, sir, welcome home!" he gushed as we walked into the entryway, slapping me on the back as I passed him. I set our bags down and shook his hand. His hands, I noticed, seemed even thinner than I remembered, but his shake was still firm. And time had forced him to hunch a bit, but he was still a tall, proud-looking man. I had always thought my father should be receiving _his_ guests - not the other way around. We embraced quickly before I turned to Bella.

"Hank, this is Isabella Swan, my girlfriend. Bella, this is Hank."

Bella shook his hand as well and told him to call her Bella. Hank's eyes seemed to light up as she spoke. A shrill cry coming from upstairs shattered the friendly atmosphere in the foyer. _My mother._

"Henry! Henry! Show Edward and his guest to my study immediately."

I cringed as Hank straightened immediately, probably a force of habit when my mother's voice went through him. Strange. It had the same effect on me.

"Sir, please follow me upstairs," Hank said, reaching for our bags.

"Uh-uh, Hank," I said, swiping them. "I don't live here anymore, so you can't wait on me, okay? Same goes for Bella, so let's just get that out of the way." I grinned and nudged his shoulder. He smiled slightly and led the way. Bella shot me nervous glances as we trudged up the stairs that cut through the center of the house. My mother's study was down the hall and suddenly, the stretch of carpet and wood flooring seemed longer than ever. Absently, I wondered where my father was.

Hank opened the heavy oak doors and stood aside as we entered. I dropped our bags and grabbed Bella's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. My mother, Elizabeth Cullen, was seated behind her heavy oak desk, still in her hospital lab coat, bent over what was, no doubt, some medical journal on the latest advances in cardiac _whatevers. _I watched her for what seemed like an hour, mesmerized by her auburn hair shining in the lamp light; her elegant, long fingers as they pushed her wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose; the general impeccable state of her, the desk and her study. She looked beautiful, as always.

"Excuse me, mum," Hank's voice said softly, ruining the illusion. Her sharp blue eyes flicked to mine and then quickly over to Bella, giving her an ocular assault. My mother quickly closed the journal and stood, smoothing her clothing, before taking three purposeful strides to stand in front of us.

"Edward, dear, good to see you," she said primly, allowing a tiny smile to grace her features. Then she crossed her arms and added, "And are you going to introduce me to your friend?"

My upbringing threw my manners into fifth gear, all without me thinking. "My apologies, Mother. Of course. Isabella Swan, this is my mother, Dr. Elizabeth Cullen. Mother, this is my girlfriend Bella."

It might have gone unnoticed by Bella and even Hank, but I watched my mother's eyes narrow ever so slightly. Then it was gone, replaced by her blank slate expression as she extended her hand toward my coxie. _Fuck._

"Isabella," my mother cooed. "It's so lovely to meet you. I'd say we've heard so much about you, but then, I'd be lying, wouldn't I?" Bella shook her hand with the same expression, which I had to give my girl credit for. If she was inwardly scared shitless, Bella didn't show it one bit.

"Please, Mrs. Cullen, call me Bella," she replied. My mother withdrew her hand. "And thank you for having me in your home. I've looked forward to meeting you and your husband for some time."

Bella was completely flooring me with this act. It was perfect - not too forward but not shy. Suddenly, I couldn't wait to see how she'd react to my father.

"Please, _Bella_, call me Dr. Cullen," my mother said. I wanted to smack myself - or her. Already, we were off to a roaring start. My mother directed Hank to show us to our respective rooms, and I made a show of taking the bags before he could pick them up. My mother could boss Hank around all she wanted, but I sure as hell wasn't going to condone it. My mother informed us that the dinner party would be starting at 7, and that we were to be dressed by 6:30. That gave us a few hours.

I poked my head into Bella's room and found her staring at her bed. "Coxie, you okay?"

"Edward, this place is a bit too much," she said, smiling weakly at me as I entered. "Seriously? A four-poster bed _and_ a fireplace? Your parents must have enjoyed the 19th century a tad too much." I laughed at her joke and pushed her playfully onto the bed. After a few kisses, I rolled off her and stood up.

"Come on, Bella," I said, pulling her upright. "We've got time to burn before the party, and I want to show you around and introduce you to my father - if he's home."

Over the next hour, I gave Bella the full tour of my parents' home, from the old servants' quarters in the attic - she said they gave her the creeps - to the vast wine cellar three floors below. Bella seemed enthralled with the architecture of the home, with all its crown moldings, ornate woodwork, carved banisters and, of course, the period antiques. My mother had been collecting them with fervor for as long as I could remember.

"Hey, Marcia, is my father home?" I asked our housekeeper when we entered the butler's pantry attached to the kitchen. Marcia had been working for my parents as long as Hank had; the two of them were like affectionate grandparents to me and I loved them as such. I reached up to pull a bowl down that Marcia had been straining to reach and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"And a hello to you, too, child! Did you check the library?" she asked me, a hint of her Scottish brogue coming through. Her bright hazel eyes glanced from me to Bella with curiosity. "And who is this fine lass, Eddie?"

"Where are my manners?" I joked, putting my arm around Bella. "Marcia, this is my girlfriend Bella Swan. Bella, this is Marcia, our housekeeper. Forget about my mother. _This _is the lady you need to butter up."

Marcia laughed and dismissed me with a wave of her hand as she arranged the china on a cart and pushed it into the kitchen with us in tow. "Oh, please. You know I love ya like a son. And I know you were raised right. I'm sure any lass you're willin' to bring into _this_ house is good enough for me." She turned and winked at us. Bella laughed at her comment and kissed me.

"Now, run off, you two, and let me to my settin' up," she said, putting apples in our hands and shooing us out of the kitchen. "Any requests for breakfast in the mornin'?"

"Oh, M, you know what I like," I said, taking a bit of the apple.

"Waffles with chocolate chips? You got it, cutie," she said. "Bella, darling,' let me know if you fancy anything for breakfast, okay? I do it all!" Bella said she'd think about it and let Marcia know. Then we headed off toward the library.

"Yes, we have a library, Bella," I said when she just gaped at me. "It's an old house. Rich people liked to have lots of useless rooms back then, like libraries and parlors and sitting rooms and butler's pantries. Come on."

I knocked and then opened the door. And was surprised to see my father reclined in one of the leather chairs in the room, one leg crossed over the other, simply reading a book. The last time I'd seen him in this room actually reading was…well, I couldn't remember. I cleared my throat and quietly closed the door.

"Edward," my father said simply. He was a man of few words. Especially when my mother was around. His green eyes looked tired, but his dark brown hair was parted and combed neatly and his old-fashioned black leather shoes were spit-shined to perfection. I swore, it was like my mother dressed him.

"Father," I replied. "I thought you'd be working."

"I left early."

"Oh," I said. Remembering why I was in here, I looked at Bella and then back at my father. "I'd like you to meet Isabella Swan, my girlfriend. Bella, this is my father, Dr. Edward Cullen."

My father closed his book and placed it on his lap, but didn't get up. He nodded at both of us and said, "Bella, pleasure." Then he went back to his book. _Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea._ "Edward, please make sure you're prompt for dinner. Your mother hates it when you're late."

"Yes, sir." Stiffly, I led Bella toward the door and we left my father to his reading. Once the door was shut, I leaned against it and let out a deep breath that I'd been holding. So far, this had turned out just lovely. Bella must think I had been raised by the pod people or something. I glanced at her, but she wasn't looking at me with shock, pity or distaste. Her face betrayed nothing but affection.

"I love you," she said, kissing me. Like she somehow knew what I needed from her at that moment. "Where to now?"

"Outside?" I offered with a quick check of the time. We took a quick tour of the grounds - which was easy since everything was covered in snow. When I started to say something about having to come back in the spring when all the flowers bloomed, I bit my tongue. I'd have Marcia send us a picture, instead. Then we went back to our rooms to get ready for the party.

After I'd put on my tux - yet another note of stuffiness running rampant in the Cullen house at Christmastime - I walked down the hall to Bella's room and knocked. There was a quiet "come in" from within and I opened the door. Bella's back was to me, and what I saw was stunning. She stood in front of a long mirror, pinning her hair up into curls on top of her head. Her dress was a deep navy - not black - and draped over her flawlessly. I reached out my hand and skimmed the material. Satin. Had to be. The dress draped in front and back, with the back a little lower than the front. It was the perfect amount of sexy, while still falling within my mother's demand for sophistication and propriety.

Bella caught my gaze in the mirror. "Do I look okay?" I quirked my brow in answer to the ridiculous question, and skimmed both hands over her waist and hips. "Edward! Is this okay?"

"Bella, you look….amazing," I said, kissing the back of her neck, now exposed. She even tasted good. "This dress…"

"Alice helped me with the outfit. Even the shoes and my hairstyle," Bella explained as she pinned the last curl into place.

"You are perfect," I said, wrapping my arms around her. With another kiss to her neck, I released her so she could finish her makeup. "Let's go downstairs."

I had to hand it to my mother. The woman knew how to throw one hell of a party. The house was a Christmas wonderland of trees, lights, ornaments, garlands and all the rest. Marcia had prepared the world's largest spread, and thankfully, the drinks were flowing. The rooms on the first floor were each a different holiday theme, and my parents' guests seemed to be quite taken with all of it. Bella and I kept to ourselves, mostly, simply for self-preservation.

"Are they ignoring you, or just too busy with their friends to notice us?" Bella asked, annoyed. "I mean, they didn't see you over Thanksgiving. I don't get it."

"Coxie, this is how they always act," I explained, taking a deep pull from my beer. "I've learned to just stay out of the way. It's much less painful that way." Bella didn't appear to like that answer. Suddenly, she put down her drink and took mine, setting it next to hers. Then she straightened my tie and pulled me out of our little corner.

"Bella, what are you doing?" I asked harshly.

"Edward, we can't stay in that corner all night being anti-social," she explained as she pulled me toward the snobbish masses. "I'd like to meet some of these people. And you're going to introduce me to them, since your parents won't. Please."

For the next twenty or so minutes, Bella and I mingled with my parents' friends. Most of them were from the hospital or had worked with one of them in the past. _They were colleagues, not friends. How incredibly sad._ With the exception of a few neighbors, who took an immediate liking to Bella, it was all work talk from them and polite nodding and pleasantries on our end. Bella, of course, handled it all like a champ, interjecting tidbits wherever she could, and seizing the opportunity to talk about life at Brown for both of us on the rare occasion someone asked.

"Edward is actually the rowing equivalent of the team captain," she said proudly to a doctor I'd never met before. "He's an excellent teacher and we're going to have a great spring season. That's why I think he'll do great at the Olympics -"

"Oh, _please_ tell me you weren't boring Dr. Hazen with tales of your college antics, Edward, dear," my mother said, inserting herself between the doctor and Bella and effectively interrupting the conversation. "Surely, this isn't the place and time for that. Ella, won't you come let me show you the parlor? I've had it decorated in -"

"Actually, Edward wouldn't boast about himself," Bella said tightly, cutting my mother off and staring at her. "He's not self-centered. _I_ was talking about crew. And I was just about to tell Dr. Hazen about Edward's aspirations for his future…when you interrupted."

My mother trained a steely gaze on Bella. Bella returned the gesture. Dr. Hazen and I uncomfortably shifted our feet. Then my mother chuckled - a rather uncharacteristic gesture with her head thrown back and mouth wide open - and focused back on the three of us.

"By all means, then, my darling," she seethed. "Continue. This is something I'd also love to hear. Do tell us what brilliance Edward is planning."

It took Bella a few moments to compose herself and turn away from my mother. Personally, I would have been content to just leave the room - hell, or the state. "Dr. Hazen, what I meant to say was that Edward is planning to compete in the Olympic trials for the next summer games." She gave my mother a warning glance. "Edward, though he won't admit it to you, is extremely talented, and I think you'll be seeing him row for our country!"

"Psssh! What kind of future is there in a sport where there is no professional arena?" my mother scoffed. "All it will serve to do is prolong his adolescent Peter Pan fantasies. My advice to you, Edward, is to graduate and get a real job."

"And what of national pride and glory, Mother?" I asked, unable to keep silent. "Does it mean nothing to you to know that your son might be able to represent our country in a long tradition of international game and sporting? It's the _Olympics_! Not some kids tourney. It's something _any _parent would be proud of."

There would be no direct insults thrown at my mother, and certainly not in front of others. But the last thing I said was as close to an insult as I was allowing myself tonight. Dr. Hazen, for all she had just witnessed, was quick on her feet and I could have kissed her.

"Well, I don't know all that much about the sport, but what you've told me, Bella, sounds fascinating," she said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother's mouth drop open for a second, before she snapped it closed. "As for you, Edward, I wish you the very best of luck. I'd be bursting with pride if one of my children even attempted the Olympics. Now, Elizabeth, you said you wanted to show me the parlor?"

Dr. Ella Hazen had gracefully ended the confrontation and removed my mother from our midst in one fell swoop. Amazing. Bella steered us toward the bar for drinks and then we jumped into the throng of people once more before dinner. During the meal, I talked with one of the hospital administrators about my plans to work in a Rhode Island senator's office for the spring semester. He told me to send him my class list and any work references I had, adding that he was always looking for bright, young talent to take leadership roles at the hospital. I thanked him but quickly dismissed the idea.

Bella again proved to be her usual, unflappable self, engaging the person seated to her left, as well as others across the table. She talked about Rhode Island, her home in Forks and what it was like growing up there with her father, the police chief, and how the two of us had met. All of those around her seemed mesmerized and truly interested. After dinner, Bella relayed to me that she'd desperately like to have fruit salad and oatmeal for breakfast in the morning, and I headed into the kitchen to let Marcia know.

"…will not have some little country girl from Podunk, Washington, make a mockery of me, this family or my evening, Edward," my mother said in a harsh whisper. I stayed in the butler's pantry, wanting to throttle my mother but eager to hear my father's response.

Silence. Then, "Yes, dear." Was my father fucking serious?

"What is she to him? She comes from nothing. Is he serious?" my mother continued. My fists were balled so tight by my sides, I was sure my skin would split. "And all of this college foolishness has to stop, Edward. He's living like a hobo, _rowing_ when he should be working to get himself a good job and career, and spending time with _her._ This is not how I raised my son to act. We raised him for better than this."

"Elizabeth," my father began with a huff. Finally! He was going to put his foot down. More silence. My father sighed. "Leave him alone. He's graduating soon. Then this will all be over with. He'll get focused and get on track. These are just distractions. You'll see."

Rage boiled inside me, turning my vision red and drowning out everything else. I nearly punched the owner of the hand that landed lightly on my shoulder.

"Jesus, Bella, you scared the shit out of me!" I exclaimed. God knew how long I had been standing there, but from the sound of it, my parents had left the kitchen. I swallowed hard, knowing that my moment of confrontation had passed, and nervous of how much Bella might have heard.

"Sorry," she said, smiling weakly. Stepping closer, Bella leaned up to kiss me, burying her hands inside my tux jacket and under the vest. She even pulled my shirt out of my pants. When I looked at her questioningly, she said, "I just needed to feel _you_ under all that stuff." Stuff was right. I kissed her again.

"How long were you standing behind me, coxie?" I asked. The answering look on her face told me too long.

"Bella, you're not a distraction to me," I said, skimming her cheeks with my thumbs as I held her face in my hands. "Please don't give a second thought to anything you heard. I love you - more than I've ever loved anyone or anything. My parents are the worst kind of clueless."

"Oh, Edward, don't worry about me," she said. "I stopped listening to your mother when she introduced herself and tried to blame you for not telling her anything about me. I just can't stand the way they treat you. It's horrible. More than that. It's neglectful and uncaring."

"I hate to say this, but I'm used to it," I said with a shrug. "But I'm not going to stand here and take it while they drag you through the mud with me."

Bella reassured me that I'd get my chance, but that tonight was not the time. We found Marcia restocking the bar and Bella relayed her breakfast request, much to our housekeeper's delight. She'd always loved doting on me, and now, apparently, Bella. The party was slowly winding down and just before midnight, I politely excused both of us and took Bella upstairs. After practically tearing off my tux, I changed into pajama pants and a t-shirt and went down the hall, tucking the small package in my pocket on my way.

"Come in, Strokie," Bella answered softly when I knocked. She had on pajamas as well, with Christmas trees, stockings and presents all over them. Closing the laptop, she walked over to me and kissed me.

"How'd you know it was me?" I asked. "It could have been Hank…or my parents."

"I know your knock," she said. "And I doubt your parents would bother to tuck me in."

"What were you doing on the computer?"

"Oh, just sending Alice and the gang a 'Merry Christmas' email," she answered. I could tell she missed them already. I took her hands and guided her over to the bed.

"We'll be home soon, coxie," I offered, easing us down onto the bed. When Bella looked at me in alarm, I added, "Just for a few minutes. I want to hold you. My parents are still occupied downstairs. Please, Bella." She relented, pressing her back against me, and I folded myself around her, eager to have her body aligned with mine, from head to toe. We laid there quietly, enjoying the peace.

"Edward, something's poking me." _The box! Shit! _Quickly I shifted and pulled the box out of my pocket, but Bella's eyes were already on it. "I was kidding, kind of, but what do you have there? Hmm?"

"I was going to wait until it was officially Christmas, but…well, I didn't wrap it, but Merry Christmas, Bella," I said, putting the small velvet box in her hand.

"Edward, please tell me you didn't spend a lot of money! Oh, I begged you not to!" Bella said, concern creasing her brow. "I mean, I didn't have a lot and you're so tough to buy for…"

"Bella, love, it's fine, really," I said, smoothing the furrow. "If I told you I didn't spend a penny, would it make you feel better?"

She nodded but seemed confused as she turned the box over in her hands. "Yes, but I'd say you were lying."

"Just open it, coxie." Slowly, she complied and with eager anticipation I waited. Her eyes lit up, flickered to mine, then down again, before the filled up with tears.

"Edward, it's…it's…beautiful," she said. Gently I took the opened box from her and removed the white gold locket from its perch. I pried the clasp open and turned it to Bella.

"This…was my grandmother's locket. See? There's a picture of her and my grandfather." I turned it over so she could look at the words and initials engraved on the back. Bella glanced up at me, shocked and looking a bit pale.

"But Edward, it says, 'Always, EC & BS' on it. Did you engrave your grandmother's locket? Oh, god!"

"No, no, Bella!" I said, trying to calm her. Realizing she'd jumped to the most logical assumption, I chuckled, adding, "Those were actually my grandparents' initials - Edward Cullen, obviously, and Bernadette Sampson. Kinda cool, huh? My grandfather didn't pass down his middle name, so I'm just a junior instead of the third."

Bella seemed a bit speechless and simply ran her finger over the engraved letters.

"My grandfather gave this to my grandmother as an engagement gift," I continued. "Before she died, Grandma Bernie told me she wanted me to have it, to give to the woman I loved when I found her."

That got Bella's attention, and her eyes filled up again. "This is so…beyond anything I could ever have imagined, Edward. This is so much more than a Christmas gift. My god."

I convinced Bella to let me put it around her neck, releasing a few of the top buttons of her shirt to better display the locket. It looked perfect on her.

"My grandmother was a wonderful woman," I explained. "She and my grandfather had a long and happy marriage. She called it 'great love.' She said it doesn't happen to everyone, but that she hoped I'd be lucky enough to find it, like she had. I miss her."

"Sounds like your Grandma Bernie was a wise woman," Bella said, arranging herself so she sat cross-legged in front of me. "And I am honored that you wanted to give this to me. That's quite a legacy. And I have nothing to give you in return."

I shook my head when she looked down at her feet. "Bella, you are my gift. I know it might sound cheesy as hell, but it's true," I said, reaching for her hands. "Having you in my life…that's been the greatest gift."

Bella smiled at me with watery eyes, and leaned forward, pressing her lips against mine. Eventually, we resumed our spooning position on the bed and were quiet again. I glanced at the clock before kissing my coxie again, adding, "Merry Christmas, Bella."

"Merry Christmas, Edward."

Breakfast was always served promptly at 7. Even on Christmas. I had set my alarm when I returned to my room after midnight, so I decided to wake Bella. To my surprise, she was already up and dressed when I entered her room. She bounded over to me, jumped into my arms, and peppered me with kisses.

"Good morning, Strokie!" she said in between smooches. "Merry Christmas - again!" I returned the sentiment and Bella slid off me and came back with a small, flat present. She'd gotten me the ultimate collection of 1980s one-hit wonders. It was an awesome gift.

"I told you it wasn't much," she said.

"But you got it for me, and it's perfect," I said. "And you know how much I love 80s music. Thank you." I yanked Bella off her feet and swung her around. Then we went downstairs for breakfast. The locket, I noticed, was prominently displayed around her neck and looked beautiful floating above the edge of her sweater.

As usual, my mother and father were hiding behind their newspapers at opposite ends of the table where many had dined the night before. I mumbled "Merry Christmas" to them, and Bella and I sat down next to each other, in between them.

Marcia bustled in whistling "Oh Christmas Tree," and kissed me on the cheek before she set my plate of waffles in front of me. Bella, of course, got her fruit salad and oatmeal. After serving my parents their grapenuts and prune juice - _seriously, how old were they? _- she came back and leaned over between me and Bella.

"Hank and I have little gifts for each of you, after breakfast, okay?" I nodded and thanked her, and she was gone. We dug into our custom-made breakfasts and eventually my parents put their papers down long enough to begin eating. The sudden clank of a spoon hitting a bowl prompted me to look up.

My mother was frozen, agape and staring at Bella's chest…and at the locket.

I turned to Bella to see her hand move to cover herself and the locket, almost as a gesture of protection. My father simply looked from us to my mother and back. As if he didn't understand what was going on.

"No, Edward," my mother finally said when she regained use of her voice. "I will not allow it. I have been silent, going along with this…this charade. But you have crossed the line. You will _not_ bestow that family heirloom on _her._"

I stood up quickly, topping my chair in the process. "Silence, Mother! You've done nothing but berate, belittle and demean _both_ of us since we stepped foot in this house less than 24 hours ago! And I will not allow _you_ to continue.

"For years, you have shut me out and insinuated that I was a disappointment to you," I continued, shooting my father an icy stare. "This ends, now. Either take an interest in me, or I will walk out of here and never think of you again. And if you decide that you'd like to have a real relationship with me, that means having a relationship with Bella. She's in my life and I love her. Mother, I don't give a shit that you always resented Grandma Bernie for not giving you this locket. She wanted me to have it, and give to the woman I love. And that woman is Bella."

"Now, Edward," my father began, the warning clear.

"No, Father!" I yelled. I reached for Bella's hand and this time, she stood up. "I'm not going to placate her anymore. That's your job. It's none of your business what I choose to do with my time and my life in Rhode Island. You've both made it very clear that you don't approve of any of it. But now, it no longer matters to me. I'm happy, and I'm going to do what makes me happy regardless of your 'expectations.'"

Marcia scurried into the dining room to wipe the spilled milk from my mothers place and to right my overturned chair. Then she left through the swinging door of the pantry. Then Bella shocked the shit out of me.

"Edward and I are leaving," she said. "You've pushed him away all these years, and now it looks like you've finally succeeded. And just so you know, I consider it an honor to wear this locket. I only wish I could have met Edward's grandmother. She seems like everything this family is not. Thank you for allowing me to stay here."

We walked away from my parents, through the pantry, to find Marcia and Hank there. Hank had our bags by his feet.

"I thought this might happen, given last night," Bella explained with a long sigh.

"And when I heard you all arguing, I went up to get your bags," Hank added.

"Get changed, Strokie," Bella said. "We've got an 11 a.m. flight out of this posh hell hole. No offense to you two."

"Of course not, lass," Marcia said, wiping her eyes with her apron. "I'm just so glad to hear ya both speak up and you, child, for finally stickin' it to your parents. They have no right to be so indifferent."

I ran to change in the small bathroom off the kitchen while Bella spoke with Hank and Marcia. In five minutes I was ready and Bella was hugging Marcia like her life depended on it. We'd definitely have to invite them out to Rhode Island. Marcia pressed two cards into my hand and took my face in her hands.

"It's not much, but Hank and I got you two a little somethin' for your life back in the east," she said tearfully, kissing my cheeks. "Now be good and call me soon. I gave Bella our numbers. Hank will drive ya to the airport."

After the bags were in the car and our seatbelts were fastened, Hank sped off for O'Hare like he was driving in NASCAR. Bella was mostly silent during the ride, except to slide closer to me and wrap her arms around me, whispering that she loved me.

"Okay, now be good, you two, and don't forget to call us every once in a while," Hank said when we were situated at our gate. Bella and I didn't care about the two-hour wait until our flight. Hank gave Bella a hug and shook my hand and hugged me. "Good luck and take care." And then he was gone.

Bella and I collapsed into the seats looking out onto the tarmac. Had it only been less than 24 hours? It seemed like weeks. But we were headed home - back to RI.

"Well, I think it's safe to say we survived that family Christmas," Bella quipped, trying to lighten the mood. I glanced at her as if to say, "You call that surviving?" but she just laughed and kissed me. "Hey. We made it out alive, and we have each other and our friends. We're headed home and we'll have some time to ourselves. Sounds like a success to me."

"I can't believe we left like that," I said, still a bit shell-shocked.

"Well, like I said to you before we left for Chicago, if it got ugly, we'd get out. I was just holding up my end of the agreement," she said with a smile.

I laughed and wrapped my arm around her.

"Oh, and by the way, I think I want to adopt Marcia and Hank," Bella added.

"I love you," I said with a grin. "And I think it's a great idea."

_A/N: So…what did you all think? That Lizzie Cullen's one stuffy bitch! Hopefully some of the sweet in this chapter balanced out the sour. Thank you to all who read! I love you all, even if I don't get to respond to all of your reviews. XOXO_


	14. Chapter 14: Betting shirts

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic. And thanks as always to Barbi and Forever_Liz for skittling me and thanks to them, Hez and Saluki for kicking me nicely in the pants to keep going. _

_We're in the homestretch now, so I figure you all can recall and absorb the older terms that have made reappearances in chapters. This one is no exception. I will list new terms, but as for the others, check my early chapters for a refresher. Onward!_

**Glossary:**

_**Betting shirts:**__ In collegiate competition, men's teams sometimes "bet" their shirts on the race, and the loser must render a racing shirt with their logo on it to the winner. The term can refer to either the practice or the shirt itself; some crews have shirts made specifically for betting so as to keep their racing jerseys should they lose a race._

_**Hammer**__: In the C.R.A.S.H.-B. Sprints, the winner of the division for their erg time is awarded a hammer, with second and third place winners receiving medals._

**Chapter 14**: Betting shirts

Bella spent most of our flight kissing me, lavishing all her attention on my lips, cheek, and neck. Not that I was complaining, but getting a boner at 30,000 feet wasn't ideal, and I really doubted the true-life allure of the Mile High Club. At least in coach. So when we landed, the two of us took one heavy-lidded glance at one another and made a run for the baggage claim. It seemed that the stress of the Cullen family Christmas had taken its toll on us.

"Edward, just fucking pull over," Bella ordered, her voice muffled by my skin and clothing. Attempting to drive on I-95 with your woman simultaneously trying to undress you? Pretty damned difficult. I'd managed to avoid sideswiping a car on our way out of the airport parking lot, but going 65 miles an hour and trying not to cause a pileup was an entirely different story.

"Bella, honey, please," I begged, reaching over - while eyeing the road - to try to buckle her seatbelt again. "I'm going to crash the damned car. And I love you and want you in one piece. Can you…hang in there for a little longer?" Immediately my brain began trying to think of secluded locations to stop along the way. The drive from the airport back to campus was short - about 15 minutes - but I wasn't sure if either of us would make it.

"Can't you just pull over so I can pull your pants down, at least?" Bella seemed ravenous and unwilling to wait. My dick hardened even more at the idea of getting road head.

"It's broad daylight, and we're in a car! The truck drivers are going to see us!"

"Well, maybe we'll get some honks for it!" Bella said, trying to unzip my pants. In response, my foot slammed the pedal to the floor, pushing my poor Volvo to its limit in an attempt to get us to our destination faster. As we turned onto 195, I had an epiphany and as the exit neared I veered off the highway and prayed my "plan" would work.

The boathouse, to me, was an island in a sea of Bella-fueled sex. And it was closer right now than her dorm or my house. I wanted Bella just as much as she wanted me, but safety - and not getting arrested for public nudity - came first. But just by a sliver. I skidded to a stop outside the door, yanked my keys from the ignition and grabbed Bella as she rounded the car. She licked my ear as I fumbled with the keys, and I managed to unhook her bra before we got inside.

Coats, gloves and shoes went flying as we stumbled. Then scarves, sweaters and pants. We'd ended up in the main boathouse bay, which had been buttoned up tightly for the winter break, but the windows let in dusty beams of natural light that lit up some of the shells in their racks, the oars against the far wall and the worn, wooden plank flooring beneath our feet.

My coxie backed away from me, letting her bra fall from her shoulders before bending to step out of her underwear. Standing naked against the boats, Bella's movement caught part of a ray of sun in her hair, making it even more chocolately and beautiful, while the rest of the light spilled onto her shoulder. I was mesmerized.

She licked her lips, seemingly oblivious to the cold. I took off my briefs. _Coats! Come on, Cullen! _Holding up my finger, I retrieved our layers and brought them back to her, laying them out on the floor to cushion us. Until now, I hadn't realized the silence around us. I almost hated to shatter it.

"Coxie, what you did for me back there was…beyond the call of duty," I said, wrapping an arm around her and cupping her face with my other hand. "You…you rescued me. I didn't know I needed rescuing." Bella shivered in my arms. Assuming she was freezing, I started rubbing her back. She shook her head.

"You kidding, Strokie? You've never needed rescuing," she whispered before kissing me. Suddenly, it didn't seem so cold in here. "I just wanted to be your hero for that moment. Offer you a guiding hand. You'd do the same for me. You _have_ done it for me."

I took her face in both hands and kissed her. All of the stress and frustration of that short trip needed an outlet. Both of us recognized it. Gently, I eased Bella down onto the floor and hovered over her, touching everywhere but keeping my weight off her. Her heart raced in time with mine as I caressed her skin from her neck to her thigh. Bella's tongue was as hungry as my own as we kissed; her hands reached for me and pulled me closer. Always closer.

"Edward, please," she whimpered. "I need you inside me."

When I pushed inside her, we both groaned. We needed this. And only this. Bella seemed to melt around me, warm, wet and perfect. She came almost immediately, arching her back against me with her mouth open.

"Fuck, yes, Bella," I said with a groan as I slid in and out, watching her ride out her orgasm. It was incredibly hot and it only encouraged me. "God, you feel so good!"

"For you, Edward," she said simply. Every word that came out of her mouth seemed woven with sex. Every movement of her body beneath mine cried for more. There was nothing I wanted more than to stay like this with her for the rest of my damn life. Sex had never been anything more for me than a physical compulsion. Bella was…different.

Bella cried my name again as she came once more, and I followed a few thrusts after her with a noise that sounded like a roar. I collapsed on top of her, panting and feeling every bit like the king of the jungle. If I hadn't been exhausted, I would have laughed at the thought. After a few moments, I realized I was probably crushing Bella, so I kissed her and rolled away, my bare ass on the wooden floor. It felt nice and cold.

"I'm all for post-coital cuddling, but considering our location…" Bella began, rolling onto her side to face me, a sexy smile lighting up her face. "What say we get going?" I agreed and we dressed quickly in silence, stealing glances at each other and smiling like imbeciles. We ran from the boathouse, my hand in hers, giggling at our accomplishment. We'd just christened it.

"Well, it can't do anything but give us good luck, the way I see it," Bella said as I pulled the car onto the street. "Though I'm sure we're not the first. But I think it was the best way to celebrate the holidays. Don't you?"

"Absolutely," I agreed, kissing her knuckles as I drove. "And a far better way to spend Christmas. Trees and wrapped presents and big dinners are so over-rated." Bella agreed but was silent for a few minutes. I made the decision to drive us to my house, instead of to Bella's dorm. Emmett and Jasper weren't due back from their respective family trips for a few days, so I knew it would be peacefully quiet. As I parked my Volvo on the street, Bella practically dove into the backseat to grab our bags. She was out of the car in a flash and once inside she dumped our stuff in my room and immediately pulled me back toward the door.

"Bella, we just got here," I said, confused as hell. "Where are we going?"

"Strokie, I just had the best idea! Just trust me." For the next hour, Bella directed me all over the city, stopping to run into any convenience or other store that was open. We stopped to get Chinese and then at last, she ordered me to pull into a rather sad-looking stand in a closed store parking lot. The sign read, "X-mas Trees – ½ off."

"Bella, why are we getting a tree?" I griped. "Christmas is almost over and I don't even have ornaments." Shushing me, she stepped out of the car, told me to stay inside to keep warm, and returned two minutes later with the ugliest tree ever known to man. After sliding it into my backseat, she jumped back in and shot me a grin.

"Just drive, my good man," she said with a smirk. Shaking my head, I took us toward the house again. This would be interesting.

"Bella, that is, by far, the _ugliest_ Christmas tree I've ever seen," I said, retrieving the last egg roll and offering half to her. Not only was it bald on one side - which Bella craftily turned into a corner to hide - but it listed to the right, the branches were limp and pine needles were falling from them like green, pointy snowflakes.

"Edward, even ugly trees need a home," she reasoned, trying to tie a bow on the top to serve in lieu of a star or angel. Her repeated runs into open stores had produced some leftover ornaments - a Santa dressed in Bermuda shorts, sipping a fruity drink with a palm tree over his head, a cat with a bow around its neck, and bunch of plain glass balls - ribbon and one set of colored, blinking lights. I'd pillaged my roommates' stash of happy hour beads and we'd used those as well.

"Now _that_ is a tree!" Bella said, standing back to admire our work once we plugged in the lights. I wrapped my arm around her, managed to keep a straight face for 10 seconds, and then burst. At first, my coxie seemed puzzled and put off by my loud guffaws, but soon she'd joined in, and the two of us were howling on the couch, tears streaming down our faces. It had been the best Christmas yet.

"Love you," I said, kissing Bella's tear-stained cheeks.

"You, too," she replied, wiping her eyes and smiling at me.

Coach Carlisle had demanded our presence at the boathouse on the last official day of winter break. Everyone else quietly grumbled about having to come back to Brown early - Emmett had apparently not gotten enough of his mom's Paula Dean-inspired cooking and Jess had met some guy back home - but Bella and I were happy to be back in the saddle.

"Guys, I want all of you stepping up your game," he bellowed from the doorway of the weight room. The entire team was either lifting, erging or spotting others while they waited for a turn. "The spring season is right on our asses and Cullen, you I want extra sharp with C.R.A.S.H.-Bs coming up in a month. Let's go, ladies! Do you wanna _win_ this spring? Or you want to be giving out your betting shirts?"

There was a strained but boisterous chorus of "fuck yeahs" from the guys and then largely silence as the dozen of us took Coach's words to heart. We all wanted to keep our shirts, thank you. During the next week, classes started again and Coach trained with us inside, barking orders and serving as our own personal shadows. When we weren't moving, we watched race footage and Coach broke down form, times and techniques. _Ahh, nothing like spring racing season to shake the ice out of the veins._

Two weeks later, Carlisle threw down the gauntlet.

He and Esme put Bella up against Alice and Bree, a coxswain smack-down for the ages, to evaluate them and determine who'd be best matched to what boat for the spring season. Of course, this was most likely done to shake the boats up - the men's and women's eights and men's four - and to show the coxes that spring meant _business_. But none of us ever knew if our coaches planned to follow through and actually mix up boats and coxes, so we got behind our respective cox and supported her.

Bella had the heart of a fucking lion, in my book. The look of pure grit and determination etched across her face was proof positive of her dedication. She screamed commands until she was hoarse while all eight of us did an erg test. She walked around us, providing encouragement and smack talk when deemed necessary. And then my coxie beat Bree _and_ Alice in an erg test. I was blown away. This dueling coxes bit continued until our first day back on the water in early February.

It was barely 40 degrees, but with no blustering winter winds or ice to worry about, our bodies warmed up quickly and it felt like a slice of frozen heaven. With Bella's help, we nailed our first practice and got our boat into the swing that made the oars sing as they sliced through the frigid water of the Seekonk. I could tell that my coxie finally felt completely at home in our boat and with the eight of us. We'd come a long way since last fall. And the guys saw it fit to tell her.

"Bells, that was the best fucking practice we've ever had, coming off winter training," Mike told her as we wiped off the shell after it had been secured on the rack. Bella was putting the cox box and her headset back in its storage place with the other sets. I rolled my eyes but kept silent, realizing there was simple awe and truth in his words. "I mean, that swing was like coming!"

At that, I ducked under the boat so I was now on his side, inches from his face and glaring at him. Only our friends knew Bella and I were together - we'd both agreed that we wanted to keep any implications of our relationship _out_ of the boat - but crude was crude and no one would think it weird for me to call Newton on it.

"Okay, I think I speak for everyone when I say that we could do without the visual of what turns you on, Newton," I said with a smirk, trying to shut him up. A chorus of chuckles from the other guys told me they agreed, and Mike's face made like a tomato. Before I could add another brilliant comment, though, Bella inserted herself between us, resting one hand on my stomach.

"That's enough, _boys_," she admonished jokingly. "I'm a big girl and I can handle myself. I can certainly deal with a little innuendo from Mike Newton. And Mike, I'll have you know that not even swing like _that_ rivals a good orgasm."

With one sly look and a wink in my direction, Bella ducked out from between us and resumed her task a few feet away, leaving Mike speechless _and_ red-faced again and me in awe _and_ hard. God, I loved that woman.

The rest of our crew left for classes, but Bella and I stayed so she could cox me on the erg once before we had to leave as well. When I finished - slumping over as I always did – and resisted the urge to heave, Bella's hand found my sweaty shoulder.

"You're going to kick ass next week, Edward," she whispered as she leaned over. Even exhausted, her hot, raspy breath in my ear still managed to send blood pumping away from my brain. "I can't fucking wait to see you race."

Blinking a few times, I tried to focus on my coxie as she carefully straddled my lap. The seat creaked under our combined weight, but I stayed still, confident we wouldn't break it. Then again, _fuck it if the damn thing came off the track_. Despite my being a sweaty, shaky mess, Bella seemed enthralled with me, as she ran her fingers through my wet hair. The gesture helped to slow my ragged breathing, but only slightly.

"You really think so?" I asked, in response to Bella's earlier comment. She nodded, kissing me hungrily. When she ground her pelvis against mine, I groaned. The bike shorts under my mesh shorts were not doing my dick any favors. I struggled to resist the urge to throw her on the floor and tear her clothes from her body.

"Mmm-hmmm," Bella hummed in reply, licking and sucking my earlobe. My eyes rolled back in my head as I squeezed her ass, pushing her against my cock again. The seat seemed to object to the movement, but I ignored it. With my shorts and hers, it was so easy to rub her against me. And fucking torturous. I thanked my lucky stars that the coaches had left for some regional crew coaches meeting thing, and that everyone else seemed to have class.

"Bella, my wicked coxie," I purred when she shoved her hand down my shorts. "You are insatiable. Not that I object to that. But…_damn_."

Her laugh was low and sexy in my ear as she somehow managed to stroke my cock while I rubbed her against me. "Sorry, Strokie. I can't help it. I guess all that coming and orgasm talk earlier got me all hot."

I made a mental note _never_ to try to shut Mike Newton up again, and kissed Bella, stroking her tongue with my own when she opened her lips. My hands reluctantly moved from Bella's ass, but only because I was on the hunt for skin. As I dug under my coxie's windbreaker, sweatshirt and t-shirt, finally, I found my reward. Goosebumps tickled the pads of my fingers, erupting as I skimmed my hands along Bella's ribcage. She moaned into my mouth and thrust her ass out, pushing her still-covered breasts at me.

"Take it off," she said in a rush, ripping her mouth from mine only long enough to utter those three words. Without looking, I unzipped her Brown Crew jacket and tossed it. Then I managed to pull the sweatshirt over Bella's head without interrupting our lips for more than a few seconds. _Fucking efficient, Cullen._ I only noticed then, of course, that she had the HotC t-shirt on, in all its tight, pink glory. And the slight, feminine muscles of Bella's shoulders, traps, and biceps made the picture even better. I couldn't bear to take it off her.

Instead, I pushed upward under her shirt, forcing her bra up and over her breasts. After cupping them in my palms to feel their warmth and weight, I dipped my head down to wrap my lips around a nipple. Bella gasped and arched into my mouth, having forgotten about getting topless. With my hand on her other breast, I worked this one until we were both breathing heavily and my shorts were completely cutting off blood flow below my waist.

As I moved to alternate my attention to her other side, Bella reached down and grasped the edge of my shirt, partially yanking it over my head. With a one-handed tug, I wrestled it off and it landed on the fly wheel of the erg next to us. Then Bella crushed our chests together, skin-to-sweaty skin.

"Fuck, woman," I said with a growl. I wanted Bella. Right now. On the fucking nasty erg. All I could see in my mind's eye was her naked and riding me. My two-word response seemed to encourage her, and with a wicked gleam in her eyes, Bella again shoved her hand down my shorts, wrapping her fingers around my cock.

Needing a distraction for fear of coming as she gripped me roughly, I leaned my coxie back and started licking every bit of skin I could reach with my tongue. She stroked me relentlessly while the fingers of her other hand dug into my bicep. _Up and down. Squeeze at the base, then up and down again. Rub circles under the head, then up and down._ Bella was going to be the death of me.

She writhed and moaned under me, never loosening her grip or slackening her pace. When I thought I'd cry from the pain of being confined to my shorts, Bella seemed to anticipate it, and sprung my aching cock from my shorts. _Sweet relief, followed by more torture._ Easing herself back up, Bella forced my lips to hers again, and I gladly took what she gave me.

"Edward, I want you so much," she panted into my mouth. And there was nothing I wanted to do more than sink into her. To drive myself home until there was nothing left in me. But now it was just too damn risky. God only knew how long we'd been going at it. Certainly, I had no sense of time when I was surrounded by Bella.

"I want you, too, coxie," I managed, abandoning her mouth for her neck. Bella tilted her head back to allow me full access. "But it's too risky now. Someone might find us."

Instead of arguing, or even replying, Bella focused her brown eyes on me, with that familiar, steely determination that momentarily thrilled, aroused and frightened me. And then, without another word, she resumed stroking. When she added her hips to the mix again, it took every ounce of restraint I had not to come in her hand.

"Fuck," I said, my hands guiding her hips even as my brain short-circuited. Bella was going to make me come. The irrepressible tension and ache burned in my gut, rolling upward and outward, through my chest and out to my hands and feet. She must have known I was close; Bella bit her lip and let go of me as she slid her warm center over my exposed dick. She rode me as if she were naked, and even through the layers of clothing that kept her from me, I could feel her excitement and need.

Bella moaned and threw her head back, pushing her perfect, pert nipples closer to my face as she rode me like a horse. I panted and grunted as her body slid back and forth over mine in a seemingly endless and exquisite punishment. My fingers desperately dug into the flesh of her ass as she exerted one last thrust, and I came as the wind rushed out of my lungs.

"Damn," Bella murmured as she continued to ride me, no doubt trying to finish. I rolled us forward and grabbed my discarded shirt, wiping between our bodies to erase the evidence. Then I pulled down the front of Bella's shorts and found that swollen nub of flesh just aching for some attention. She cried out as soon as my thumb hit her skin and began making tight circles. I silenced her with my mouth, but Bella was panting so hard that I knew she was close. And I didn't want to distract her.

With a twist of my hand, I slid my middle finger inside her, groaning as the wetness slicked my finger and hand. I kept my thumb moving and watched Bella as she unraveled. Her gaze never left mine.

"Your turn," I whispered hoarsely. As if on command, Bella gasped, her body tensed and then I felt her muscles tighten and relax around my finger as she came. The new rush of wetness nearly drove me insane, but I ignored my baser urges and gently rubbed her as she rode out her orgasm. Gradually, her hips slowed their movements and I removed my fingers. I licked them as I held her gaze, watching her eyes flicker from mine to my hand and back.

"That was a good workout," Bella remarked, smiling and biting her bottom lip like the vixen she was. She leaned over and kissed me, tugging on my bottom lip with her teeth before releasing me. I pulled her to my chest and hummed in agreement. Then I glanced at the clock and realized we were on borrowed time.

"Love, what time is your first class?"

"Nine. Why?" she asked dreamily.

"Well, we'd better go," I said, unwillingly lifting her off my lap. Bella glanced at the clock, muttered a curse, and hurriedly reassembled herself. Once I'd done the same – minus my shirt – I pulled her from the boathouse. With a kiss that started out as a quick goodbye, but quickly got X-rated, I ushered my coxie to her truck and told her to text me later. Then I ran to my car and hauled my ass home for a quick shower. A cold one.

_**That was the best dry humping ever. - B**_

I stifled a groan when I read Bella's first text, a little more than an hour later. There was no way in hell I was getting out of my poli-sci class _without_ a horrific boner.

_**Yeah. Not the driest, either. ;) - E**_

_**The wetter, the better. - B**_ Bella was obviously trying to reprise our morning activities via text. I sighed and struggled not to completely tune out the professor. Really, who could give a shit about foreign policy when there were texts like this to be had?

_**And you know exactly how to stroke me. - E**_

_**That's my job as your coxie, Strokie. I know when to stoke hard… & soft. -B**_

_**Pls, for the love of God, stop! I'll have a hard time explaining it if I come in class. -E**_

_**Is it hard, Edward? -B**_

_**Very. I gotta go. Love u. -E**_

_**Yes. Go. After class I'm going back to my room to take care of this. ;) -B**_

_**You're killing me. -E**_

_**Love you too. ;) -B **_

The week flew by, thanks to our back-to-normal schedule of practices, working out and training for C.R.A.S.H. –B.s with Bella, and by early Sunday morning, I was a nervous ball of energy as the two of us drove to Boston. Over the course of the last few months, I'd managed - with Bella's help - to shave down my time on a 2,000 meter erg piece to just under six minutes. I'd reviewed the prior years' best times for the open men's division, where I'd registered myself, and had prepared as much as humanly possible. It would all come down to the adrenaline and excitement of the day's events, and whether I could step outside myself to do more than my best.

"You can do this," Bella said as I stood behind her in the arena at Boston University, watching other groups competing. The whir of the flywheels on hundreds of ergs buzzed like an army of bees in my ears. "This is just another day, another erg piece, Edward."

I squeezed her shoulders in thanks, but said nothing. These people - young and old, men and women, athletes and former glory-seekers, coxes and rowers - were all here for the same thing. Punishment? Did they really all love rowing this much? Was it simply the thrill of competition? _Had to be all of that. That's why I was here._

Racing went on all day, from 9 until 5. The open men's division race wasn't until the afternoon, and it gave Bella and me plenty of time to wander around, watch other groups, and for me, time to loosen up. Or try to. Bella watched as others coached their rowers, smiling when she heard something funny, and probably taking mental note of everything else that was shouted. After running a lap around the entire arena to limber and warm up, I walked over to Bella and then took my place on the erg. My heart was pounding already.

"Edward, focus on me, okay?" Bella demanded with a stern look. The race hadn't even started, but she seemed to possess the focus that I lacked. "_Only me_. _Right here_."

I nodded and handed myself over to her. In less than five minutes, my body and mind would be hers until I finished my 2,000 meters. After almost six months, it came naturally to me. And I'd never thought I'd be able to say that. At the moment, I wouldn't have wanted anyone else here with me. If I couldn't win this with Bella, I couldn't win it at all. She was my cox.

Bella took a seat directly behind me, positioned so that she and all the others could yell or speak to their respective rowers. From this moment until the end of the race, I'd only be able to hear her voice. Closing my eyes, I took a few deep breaths. Slowly, I tuned out all the background noise, the presence of the two guys flanking me and even the frantic pace of my heart. Only my coxie.

"It's 2,000 meters, Edward. Just a bit more than a mile. Piece of cake. You can row this in your damn sleep."

_Piece of cake. No problem. Such a short distance, really._

"You've shown me how fast you can be. Do it faster, this time."

_Yup. Faster. Just this once._

Opening my eyes, I nodded and got into position. The official told us all to begin, and I burst backwards, pulling with every ounce of strength I had. Getting off to a good start was crucial. Staring blindly ahead of me, I turned my body into the finely tuned machine I knew it could be, if called upon, while Bella coached me.

The first 500 meters passed easily; during the second, my body started to burn. When I passed the 1,000-meter mark, Bella turned up her volume, and moved closer so that I could feel her breath on my neck on the recovery.

"That's it, Edward! You're doing great! Perfect time - under three minutes. Exactly where we want to be! Keep it up. Drive strong with the legs. Pull hard and keep your back strong. Good!"

Dimly, I became aware of the din in the arena growing as all of us made our way toward the last 500 meters of the race. Bella was shouting behind me, reminding me to keep my stroke clean, despite the exhaustion. Not wanting anything to distract me, I kept my vision fuzzy and didn't dare hazard a glance at my time. I ignored everything except Bella's voice - even the screaming of my lungs, the stabbing pains in my back and knees and the sudden thickness of my tongue in my mouth.

"Edward, that's it! One hundred meters left! Give me everything! I don't care if you break the erg!" I could have sworn I heard my name out there in the arena, but quickly tuned out the sound.

As I finished, the handle slipped from my sweaty fingers and snapped back against the machine as I slumped over, gasping for air. Suddenly, whoops and yelling, punctuated by "Yeah, Eddie!" punctured my race-induced haze. I managed to lift my head to see my friends and teammates all clapping for me. They'd been here all along.

I turned to Bella and smiled. "Thanks," I said, too out of breath to say much more. After the official recorded my time, Bella got up and helped me step off the erg.

"You did awesome, Strokie," she said, her eyes as bright as her smile. "I knew you would." I wrapped my arm around her and she walked us over to the small crowd. Emmett, Jasper, Mike, Tyler, Ben and Alec, Alice and even Rose had all come to support me. And somehow they'd managed to keep this from me.

"Guys - you're all here!" I said, shaking Jasper's hand as I approached them. "How'd you-"

"Eh, we're mysterious like that, Eddie," Emmett interrupted, flashing a grin and whacking me on the back. After I'd regained my footing and my breath, I thanked them all for coming to cheer me on.

"Edward, you kicked some serious ass," Alice said excitedly. "And I just happened to notice that you were the first one to lose grip of your handle. I'm taking that as a good sign."

"Thanks, Alice," I muttered.

"Dude, you totally deserve a hammer!" Emmett exclaimed. Laughing, I agreed jokingly, and told them all they could leave if they didn't feel like hanging around for the awards ceremony. Since most of them had been there since the early afternoon, the group left after spending some time with us, and Jasper even promised a hot meal for dinner. I was sold.

"I agree with Emmett," Bella said as we walked around the arena together. I squeezed her hand and kissed her nose.

"Thanks, coxie. If I win it, it's yours."

Bella giggled and looked up at me. "It'll be my valentine. From you to me."

I laughed. I'd never had a valentine before, but the timing was perfect.

"You got it," I said. "From Strokie to his coxie, for Valentine's Day, with love."

_A/N: Well, we squeezed a lot into that chapter. What did you all think? _

_As a side note, it's not unheard of for coaches to jumble up rowers between boats, as well as coxswains. Usually it's done to determine if the boats (in this case, I mean the rowers in each one) need to be re-assigned – they're called seat races. The same can be true of coxes. In the chapter, I did it to show there was now good competition between Bella and the other coxes. Coach Carlisle and Coach Esme wouldn't really rearrange the boats. Not in my fic. So no worries. __ Thank you all who read and have stuck with this fic!_


	15. Chapter 15: Finally  Getting tossed

_Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns all things Twilight. All of the references used in this story in relation to Brown University and its rowing team, and all of the regattas and other rowing organizations and brand names mentioned are only used here for entertainment purposes; no copyright infringement intended._

_Thank you to Barburella and Hez Pixie, who so nicely helped me think out the plot for this silly little fic, and to Forever_Liz and Saluki as well. They know why._

_Well, gang, it's been a blast, but we're at the end. Yup, the big finale. This chapter will cover a lot, and hopefully leave you with warm fuzzies. So hang onto your unis and secure your oars in their oarlocks! It's going to be quite the photo finish! _

**Glossary:**

_**Hammer**__: In the C.R.A.S.H.-B. Sprints, the winner of the division for their erg time is awarded a hammer, with second and third place winners receiving medals._

_**Eastern Sprints: **__the annual rowing championship for the Eastern Association of Rowing Colleges (EARC). The race is held in Worcester, Massachusetts and generally, crews compete in a trial heat in the morning, followed by a final in the afternoon, each a 2000m race._

_**IRA Championships: **__The __**Intercollegiate Rowing Association**__ runs the __**IRA Championship Regatta**__, which is considered to be the United States collegiate national championship of rowing. It is the oldest college rowing championship in the U.S._

_**Hands-away: **__At the close of the drive phase of the stroke, the hands move away from the body._

_**Look ahead: **__A command shouted by a crew about to be overtaken by another crew, telling the overtaking crew of their presence._

**Chapter 15:** Finally – Getting tossed

Walls shook as Bella pounded the shit out of them, and absently I wondered how much abuse the old plaster and lathe could handle. She'd insisted that a home couldn't be labeled as such without paintings and pictures on the walls, so my girlfriend had taken it upon herself to hang them in our house.

Of course, I was sure part of her reasoning had to do with bringing a feminine touch to our bachelor pad, since she spent so much time here. Looking around now, I realized it did lack the basic hallmarks of a home; but then again, what did she expect from three guys? It wasn't like we were the type to hang curtains and have flowers everywhere. A bit of ceiling fell on my head, so I walked into the living room to see if I could help.

"Bella, are you serious?" I asked incredulously. "That's an award, not a real _tool_!"

"Sorry, Strokie, but I didn't have a hammer and I didn't want to bother you by asking for one," Bella replied sheepishly, hiding the thing behind her back - as if I'd forget if it wasn't in sight. Sighing, I retrieved a used hammer from our toolbox in a hall closet and handed it to her in exchange for my ceremonial one. It might have looked like a normal tool, with its wooden handle and standard steel head, but…

"I'm not sure I'm going to give this back to you," I said sullenly, my finger smoothing the scratches on the head of the hammer. "Who abuses a Valentine's Day gift like this?"

Bella gave me a look that suggested I was acting like a petulant child. "Edward, it's a hammer. I'm sorry. I promise I won't use it for _hammering_ ever again, okay? If you'd given me flowers or a stuffed animal, I assure you I wouldn't be trying to hang pictures with them."

"Very funny, coxie," I retorted. "Remember, it was your idea."

Bella shook her head and laughed. "I know." She walked over and kissed me gently. "It's still the best Valentine's Day present I've ever gotten." After some kisses that easily could have escalated, had Jasper not been in the next room, Bella stood back and admired her work.

"What do you think, Strokie? They're reproductions, but whatever. It's still nice, I think."

I walked over to where she was standing, stared at the collection of prints, tilted my head and rubbed my chin for effect. A quick jab of an elbow into my ribs prompted me to drop the act.

"It…it looks great, coxie," I said, holding my side. "Jasper, what do you think of Bella's attempt to make our place more homey?" Jasper rounded the corner into the living room and stood next to me, squinting one eye and then the other. I could barely stifle my laugh. Bella huffed and stared at him expectantly.

"Oh, come on. I swear, you two share a brain," she said, throwing her hands up in the air. "Just say yes or no. Thumbs up or down. Whatever. I don't know why I bother."

The bastard just kept looking at the wall while I tried, rather unsuccessfully, to go along with a serious expression. Emmett barreled into the living room, looking for us, and stopped when he saw what we were both examining.

"Did you do this, Baby Bell?" he said with a smile. Bella rolled her eyes at his nickname for her. "It looks awesome!" Emmett looked around the room. "Makes the rest of the place seem like less of a shithole. Thanks!"

Jasper and I gave up on our "critique" of Bella's work and started laughing at Emmett's honest assessment. Bella, to her credit, took his statement as a compliment.

"Why, thank you, Emmett. These two asshats couldn't be bothered to _just_ answer me."

"Sure. What's for dinner, Jackoff?" he asked, already on to the next important subject.

"I didn't have time to make anything, fatty, because I just got back from visiting your mom," Jasper quipped with a smirk, knowing it would goad Emmett, despite it being a joke.

"Dude, I'm _not fat_!" Emmett whined, completely missing the other part of his roommate's comment. "Fuck you both. I'm going to have some cereal."

My phone ringing cut off my chuckles at Emmett's expense, and Bella handed it to me from its perch on the sofa arm, after looking at the caller ID. _Nosy girlfriend._ Her expression, however, made my heart jump into my throat.

"Edward, it's your dad."

_What?_ Dumbly, I stared at the display for a few moments before excusing myself to answer it. My father rarely called me. I hoped there was nothing seriously wrong. I pressed the send button and nervously put the phone to my ear.

"Dad?"

Fifteen minutes later, I left my bedroom and rejoined my roommates and Bella. All three were sitting quietly at the kitchen table, seeming like they were waiting for the sky to fall. After assuring them there was no emergency, I pulled out a chair and joined them.

"So, Ed, what did the old man want?" Emmett asked finally.

"He congratulated me on C.R.A.S.H.-B.s, believe it or fucking not," I replied, giving Bella a sideways glance. My crafty coxie must have had something to do with it. "I almost fell over when he said it. Weird, because I didn't even tell him I was competing."

With another glance in her direction, I wrapped my arm around her and squeezed, not wanting Bella to feel guilty for whatever she might have done. I appreciated it.

"Yeah, I might have had something to do with that," she replied quietly. "I sent Hank and Marcia the picture Alice took of us, and they must have passed it on. You know, when we use their gift certificate to that B&B in Chicago, we really should meet the two of them somewhere - catch up, you know? I'm sure they'd love that."

"That was really sweet of you, coxie," I said, kissing her nose. "And I agree."

My father started calling me every week. He never spoke of what had happened over Christmas, and I doubted he ever would. My mother never got on the phone, and he never really mentioned her, aside from telling me she was fine and said hello. Over the course of our short conversations, I began updating my father on my class schedule, my internship and the upcoming spring racing season. Olympic trials had been April, but I wasn't ready to tell him that. That was one dark cloud I didn't want over my head. My shot at the Olympics was something I held sacred. Only Bella, Coach and my team knew about it, and they repeatedly told me that regardless of the outcome, I'd done an awesome thing just by trying.

Though I realized my father and I would never have a conventional relationship - hell, at this point, I was glad to have any sort of relationship with him - our talks were _something_ and I came to rely on the clockwork-like comfort of them. Most times, my father just listened to me ramble about my life, giving the appropriate "I see" and "right" here and there. But, as Bella reminded me, it was more than I'd ever had with him.

As my senior year progressed, I started thinking about me and Bella, and what my graduating would mean to our relationship. I still wasn't sure where the future would take me, but most likely, it would be away from Rhode Island. I couldn't stomach the thought of leaving Bella behind. Really, I couldn't imagine leaving any of this behind. Friends. Loved ones. Rowing. Brown. All of these things had become my life. Who was I without them? It kept me up at night.

One morning after practice, I found Bella in Coach's office, staring at the picture on the wall. She'd made a habit of visiting it of late, and finally my curiosity got the better of me and I asked her why.

"Matt really lived for rowing," she said distractedly, still looking at her brother's form. "Growing up, I never understood the stuff he put his body through: the puking, the infected blisters, the injuries, the ridiculous diets and the early mornings. I _so_ get it now, Edward."

I stood behind her and wrapped my arms around her, hugging her to my body. "I know what you mean, coxie," I said. "No one else can possibly understand it. It's something you have to live. Do you…regret it at all? Joining?"

She shook her head. "No. Never. It brought me to you - and the rest of our impromptu family," she said. I could hear the smile in her voice as I rested my chin on the top of her head. "And I'd like to think this has helped my dad, too. It's helped us both."

Bella had come so far in such a short time, and Matt and this picture reminded me of that fact. My coxie, strong-willed and a spitfire from the beginning, hadn't lost an ounce of her spark. But now I knew what fueled it; she'd let me in and had shown me what made her burn. I loved her for it.

"It's his anniversary, you know," Bella said. When I pulled away to look at her, she added, "May 5. It's been almost 10 years."

"Wow. Bella, that's right before the Eastern Sprints."

"I know."

How could Bella just nonchalantly bring this up, and then push it aside to focus on our biggest race of the spring season? My worry flared at the thought of her struggling with the pain of her brother's death, along with the stress of a race just days after. Then I thought of Charlie; would he ever watch his daughter cox? And would Hank and Marcia want to watch us, too? My thoughts suddenly swirled like an angry storm in my brain.

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked, unsure of how to broach the subject.

Bella turned and looked at me. "Oh, yeah," she said, before kissing me. "Thank you for being concerned, but I've come to terms with it all. It will be so satisfying to race in his memory. Imagine if we win!"

I kissed her again and grinned. "We _will_ win, coxie. Promise."

That night, over pitchers and popcorn, Alice, Jasper, Rose, Emmett, Bella and I conspired to bring about the karmic bitchslap for James and his Skidmore crew. It seemed to come from nowhere; then again, we _were_ drinking. Jasper, Emmett and I always seemed to have epiphanies when beer was involved.

"Man, wouldn't it be sweet if we could finally silence that assclown James?" Jasper mused before shoving a handful of popcorn in his mouth. "It would be so funny."

After we deciphered what Jasper had just said through the popcorn, Emmett smacked the table in agreement. Alice bounced excitedly in her chair and Rose's expression took on a menacing look.

"I despise that piece of shit," Bella said. It seemed we were all in agreement.

"Okay, then, but how do we get him to live up to Emmett's nickname for him?" I asked, wringing my hands with the infinite possibilities. "It has to be something sneaky. I'm not throwing away our race on that jackass."

"We could beat his ass up before the race!" Emmett offered. "Just my boat. You guys would be guilt-free." Alice shook her head; it was too risky. Then she offered hiding their oars as a potential solution. We all agreed that we'd have a hard time hiding 16 oars, since we'd need to hide their backups as well. And Skidmore would likely just borrow some other crew's if they lost theirs, anyways.

"What about a mysterious case of food poisoning?" Rose offered, licking her lips. Emmett leaned over and kissed her like he was digging for gold in her mouth.

"Admirable, considering the consequences of food poisoning, Rose, and the nickname Jimmy Skidmarks, but we want to punish James, not his entire boat," I reminded them. "I want this to be a mindfuck. Just enough to toss James off his pedestal and maybe make him think twice about messing with us."

"And me," Bella added loudly. Then I got an idea.

"Guys, I think I have it," I said, leaning over the table to tell them. Five pairs of eyes lit up with amusement as I started to explain. Bella had to be an integral part of my revenge scheme; it would be so fitting letting her get the last word, since James had insulted her at the beginning of the season last year. It would require good acting from me, if I was unlucky enough to run into James before Bella got to him. Once my coxie understood where I was going with the idea, she plunged head-first and offered suggestions and lines that, if she delivered them flawlessly, would make our scheme perfect. And fair, in the end.

"I absolutely love it, Edward," Alice said. Even Rose admitted it was brilliant, despite not requiring laxatives or food prep.

"God, I can't wait to see the look on his face!" Jasper shouted. "It'll be priceless!"

"When are Eastern Sprints, already?" Bella asked with a smirk. "I can't wait three weeks!"

Those three weeks had passed surprisingly fast. Coaches Esme and Carlisle were merciless in our practice schedule in preparation for each race. We'd had two smaller races in April, both in which the men's and women's eights had garnered second and first place, respectively, but the sprints were, by far, the biggest college spring race in the region. This one, as they said, was for all the marbles. All of the northeastern Ivy League colleges competed, as well as others…including Skidmore.

A group of us had just finished putting the oars back in the rack one the last morning before the weekend race, and had walked back down to the dock to put hands on, when Coach called to us from the boathouse bay.

"Guys, when you're done bringing it in, let's meet upstairs to the common room," he said, his voice bouncing off the water and the boathouse walls. "I wanna talk to you quickly. Bella, make it quick, please. Everyone else is up there."

My coxie immediately called for hands on and we scrambled to comply, going directly from that command to overhead, a feat for our taxed muscles. With a collective groan, we shouldered the boat and walked it up the ramp and onto a sling so it could be de-rigged later for travel. Then we huffed it upstairs.

The common room was a typical boathouse hangout space: old leather couches and stuffed armchairs scattered over the worn wooden floors. A ratty Oriental rug anchored the large space and often served as extra seating, like it would today. The wood-paneled walls had long been decorated with crew photos, going back to the 1930s. Uniform in their design - with the team standing, often with two oars, the coach and the cox, along with any medals or trophies from a win and the Brown University shield in front - they documented our long and prestigious past. I'd always felt the eyes of those who'd come before us staring out at me from behind the glass. Like they were keeping watch, silently reminding us of what we had to live up to. It was simultaneously comforting and intimidating.

When we got there, the women's team, men's four and novice crews were already waiting, so the nine of us took seats on the floor. While we waited for Coach, I took note of the plaque on the wall behind the small television.

"_Why should you row a boat race? Why endure the long months of pain in preparation for a fierce half hour that will leave you all but dead? Does anyone ask the question? Is there anyone who would not go through all of the costs, and more, for the moment when anguish breaks into triumph or even for the glory of having nobly lost? Is life less than a boat race? If a man will give the blood in his body to win the one, will he spend all the might of his soul to prevail in the other?" - Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr._

"Every time I read that, it gives me chills, man," Mike whispered from his place next to me. I nodded. _Indeed. _

"Okay, everyone, thanks for hanging out after practice," Coach Carlisle said, coming to stand in front of us with Esme. I couldn't see the plaque anymore. "There are a few things we want to say to you, now that we have you all here."

"For starters, this weekend, for many of you, will be the highlight of your last year here at Brown," Esme began. "It is the culmination of four years of blood, sweat and tears. Literally. It is your time to put it all on the line, one last time, for yourself, your team, your coaches and your university."

"As you know, how we finish the sprints will determine whether we advance to the championships in June," Carlisle added. "I know I don't need to tell any of you how important this race is.

"I know I'm always cueing up race footage, pushing you harder on the water, making you erg and circuit train and run," he continued. "And I know I'm always asking you how much you want this. But gang, you know that's what it all comes down to. Desire. That is what separates you, in the end, from every other crew out there. We all know they're just as strong physically, their bodies just as able as yours."

"If we stripped away the heart of this team, and lined you up against all the others, there'd be no distinguishing you from them, and we want you to remember that," Esme chimed in. "You'd be faceless human machines, trained for a solitary task: to propel yourselves toward the finish line. But that's not any of you. This team has the collective heart of a lion - a true champion."

"You all need to dig deep, beyond what you think is the _depth_ of you," Carlisle said, picking up Esme's thought like they were reading each other's minds. "We've asked for all of you. Now we need more. This, right here," he said, gesturing with a fist to his chest, "is what separates the winner from the rest. You all have it within you. What you need to do from now until that starting gun goes off is find it. Find that place that nothing and no one else – not self-doubt, not fear, not expectations, not family or competitors – can touch. Bring it to the surface, be willing to _drown_ in it, and you will be victorious."

In the silence immediately following their joint speech, the entire Brown University crew team soaked up Esme and Carlisle's words before exploding into yells and applause. The two of them had always had a gift of reaching us when and where we needed it most. I'd miss that as well, I realized, as I whooped it up with the rest.

"Edward, got a moment?" Carlisle asked as I passed his office on my way out with Bella. I ducked inside and asked Bella to wait for me.

"Sure. What's up, Coach?"

"Edward, I'm going to cut right to the chase," he said. "I know you're graduating, but I don't want to lose you. Give your future some thought, of course, but just know that if you want it, there's an assistant coach's job here for you."

The news shocked me, of course. It also thrilled me. I thanked him profusely, and told him I'd give it serious thought.

"No need to make any decisions today, Edward," he reminded me with a pat on the back. "Think it over. I think we could use a guy like you coaching here. I'm willing to work around the Olympics, too, if that should be the case."

Walking out of Coach's office in a daze, I decided that for now, I'd keep the idea to myself and think things through. There would be no sense in dangling that carrot in front of my friends and Bella if I didn't actually take the job.

"Have any big plans for the night before the big race?" I asked Bella with a smile once we were outside. I'd walked her to her truck and was secretly hoping we could spend the night together, even if it turned out to be PG-rated. I didn't want to waste any moments with her.

"Hmm…," she said dramatically, pausing for effect. "I was actually planning on spending some quality time with my boyfriend. Great guy. Sorry."

"Ah. Well, my loss, his gain," I quipped, leaning down to kiss her. "So…what time can you come over? The guys are going out, I think, but it'll be an early night for them, so if you can, come over early."

Bella said she'd be over as soon as her last class ended. She was already there when I got home; evidently, one of the guys had let her in. I discovered Bella had also brought our dinner: chicken pockets, along with an order of their falafels - my favorite - all from East Side Pockets.

"Hey, coxie," I said when I pulled her off the couch and into my arms. "It's so nice to come home to you. Thanks for bringing food, too. What a woman." I kissed her a few times, ignoring cat calls from my two roommates. My body responded to hers immediately; I couldn't wait for us to be alone.

"I'm telling you, Ed, you don't ever let go of a woman who comes bearing food gifts," Emmett said from the old recliner. Jasper snickered at Emmett's standards for what defined a woman as a "keeper."

"Was that how Rosie won you? Did she bake for ya?" he asked mockingly. Emmett nodded in all seriousness.

"That she did. Made me a three course dinner and then got all rough with me in the bedroom," he answered truthfully. We all laughed at that. "I knew she was the one. I love a lady who can handle her man."

"Or man-handle her Emmett, as was in Rose's case," I amended. An hour later, Emmett and Jasper left to go pick up the girls for their night out. Bella reminded them about getting back early for a good night's sleep - and ordered them not to drink - and they assured her they knew these things and that they'd be back before 10. As soon as the door shut, I pushed Bella against it and assaulted her with my mouth. She giggled and squirmed under me, but within seconds I felt her fingers under my shirt.

"Strokie, shouldn't we eat first?"

"Was planning on it," I said in my best low, sexy voice. Then I unbuttoned her shirt and licked my way from her sternum to her navel. Bella gasped when she at last followed my train of thought.

"Oh, so you only wanted to get me here to seduce me," she said softly as I got on my knees and lifted her skirt toward her hips, bunching the fabric as I went. My lips skimmed her knees, then the insides of her thighs as I nodded. When I ran my tongue over the cotton of her underwear, she gasped and said, "Well, I guess I'll let it go - this time."

At that, I threw her over my shoulder and made haste for my bedroom, with Bella laughing the whole way.

"I'm going to punish you for that, Ms. Swan," I said, scolding her with a slap on her ass. She squealed and told me it was hot when I took the disciplinarian tone with her. After tossing her on the bed, I removed her shirt, bra and shoes before refocusing my attention on her skirt and what was beneath it.

This time, I worked my tongue and lips from her ankles up to her hip bones, carefully and purposely avoiding the one place I most wanted to be. Bella writhed under me, more insistently this time, and whimpered every once in a while. She must have known that this served as my punishment, however; never once did she beg me to move my tongue elsewhere.

With the skirt up around Bella's ribs and her toes flexing and curling, I trailed a finger over the panel of her underwear. The moisture I already felt there was a welcomed sensation, and I smiled. Keeping my eyes on Bella's, I slipped my tongue just inside the waistband and ran it along the edge until I reached a hipbone. My coxie closed her eyes for a moment, but then refocused on me.

Hooking two fingers under the material at Bella's hips, I began a slow descent, using every ounce of self-control not to just rip them off her. My cock hardened with each inch of delicious skin I exposed, and suddenly, I couldn't wait to get inside her. Shoving the thought aside, I gently spread Bella's thighs, pressing light kisses along each one until I was hovering over her.

"Please, Edward," Bella finally whispered. "Give me your tongue."

_Fuck me._ With a groan, I leaned forward and ran the tip of my tongue from the top of her slit to the bottom and then up once more. God, I could never get enough of her taste. Bella's whole body bucked with the addition of my tongue on her, so I used one palm on her stomach to anchor her to the bed. Then I dove in.

Bella was water to this dying man; she alone would save me from certain death. I used the flat of my tongue to lap at her; I used the tip to drive her insane with circles and figure eights. I tugged her folds with my lips and gently nibbled on her clit with my teeth. Then I hummed in contentment as I fucked her with my mouth.

"Oh, God, yes!" she cried, her hands fisted in the covers. Her head thrashed and her thighs shook as I continued to plunge in again and again, never satisfied and thirsty for more. My cock strained painfully against my fly, but I pressed onward as if what I was doing with my tongue could alleviate the pain in my groin. Dimly, I became aware of Bella's hands in my hair. I hummed again at the slight pain against the pleasure of where my tongue was. Then I realized Bella was pulling rather hard.

"Edward, please," she said, the rest of the sentence dying on her lips as her body convulsed with an orgasm. When I finally raised my head, her hair was a mess and her brown eyes were wild. She yanked me up by my hair and I willingly followed, my brain dim and drunk on Bella. Assuming she wanted me inside her, I quickly shed my jeans and t-shirt and moved back down her body. Another painful yank, however, had me confused.

"Edward, get up here," she commanded breathlessly, motioning me upward. When I didn't react immediately, she grabbed my thighs and pulled me toward her head until I straddled her face. With a quick and hungry glance at my dick, Bella took me into her mouth.

My stomach muscles jerked as her warm, wet mouth surrounded me, and I braced myself against the wall as I struggled not to come. With the same eagerness I'd shown her, Bella sucked, licked, flicked and fondled me. She paid special attention to the head of my cock and just below it, and when she sucked my balls into her mouth, I had to look away for fear of ending it too soon. My coxie had me panting and straining not to come in her mouth. I needed to…I needed to…

"Bella, I need to be…inside you – now," I managed in between huffs and shivers as she continued to suck on me. When she kept going, I slowly tried to extricate my dick from her mouth. "If you keep this up…I'm going to…come. Please."

Finally, Bella relinquished me from her mouth with a loud, wet, pop and I positioned myself over her. Teasing my wet cock over her lingering wetness, I slid back and forth just to tease her for a bit. And to de-sensitize myself slightly. Bella reached for my mouth and I gave it to her willingly, our tongues twisting and our lips still hungry.

"God, Edward, please stop teasing me," Bella moaned against my lips. I pushed inside her and we both moaned. Smoothing back her hair, I kissed Bella again and she smiled against my mouth.

When I pulled away, she said, "I can taste me on your lips. I love that." I loved that, too, and told her so as I thrust deep inside her. Bella wrapped her legs around me and pulled me even closer; I could only move my hips, but that was fine with me. When her legs got tired, I flipped us over so Bella could ride me, and I watched with complete rapture as she moved over my hips. My hands skimmed her small waist, the swaying swells of her breasts, the soft skin of her abdomen. As she came again, my coxie let her head fall back, crying out as a new rush of wetness coated me.

_I could look at her like this all day. Forever. I'd never get bored. Not even for a moment._

"Fuck!" she cried as she collapsed against my chest, her hips still rocking. With her permission, I turned us over again and began pumping in earnest. Bella's eyes were glazed with her force of her second orgasm, and it didn't take long for me to follow her. I came powerfully, saw stars, and then settled my chest against Bella's as I kissed her tenderly.

We stayed like that, still connected, for a few minutes, before I rolled off of Bella so I wouldn't crush her. Instantly I pulled her against my chest so we were back to front, and pulled the covers over us. I kissed her neck and ear after I made sure she was comfortable.

"Hmm…I could fall asleep just like this," she murmured in the silence. I pressed against her and wrapped my arm around her waist.

"You're welcome to, of course," I offered. "I'll set the alarm, too, if you want. I'd love to have you stay tonight. I promise you a great night's sleep."

"After that, I doubt it'll take long for me to nod off into dreamland," Bella said. "Oh my God! We forgot dinner! We have to eat, Edward."

After convincing Bella to stay in bed, I checked to make sure no one had returned early and snuck into the kitchen to warm up our pockets and falafels. With plates prepared, I grabbed two glasses of water, put them on the plates, and managed to get back into bed without making a mess.

"Wow, dinner in bed," she remarked. "I like this."

"Anything to keep you here with me," I said. The chicken pocket was perfect and the falafels light and crispy. "So, do you want to stay?"

Bella swallowed her bite of pocket before answering. "Of course. I brought all my gear for tomorrow. I hope it wasn't presumptuous of me. I thought it would be nice to spend the night before our big race with my Strokie."

"Gonna make sure I get to bed early and maybe teach me some strategy for tomorrow?" I hedged, smiling around my pocket. "I have so much still to learn, Yoda."

Bella laughed and rubbed my back. "Oh, no. Trust me. You are the master." Settling back against the head of my bed, we ate in silence while I flipped through the TV channels. When we finished, I wrapped my arm around Bella and we got comfortable.

"Nervous about tomorrow?" Bella asked after a while.

"Nope," I answered. "I feel it - we're going to win this thing." Bella sighed against my chest.

"Me, too," she admitted. "I'm not nervous. Is that weird?"

"No," I answered. "It just means you and I are totally in-sync with each other. Cox and stroke. That's the way it should be."

The first things my beleaguered brain registered were the beep as we rushed past the finish line and Bella's exuberant face. Definitely a good sign. We'd just finished the morning's trial heat and from the looks of it, we'd done well.

It had felt good; our swing never wavered and no one caught a crab or skied his blade. Bella's voice had become a reverberation in my chest, a voice alongside my heartbeat, and intrinsically, I'd known we would make it to the final.

"Guys, awesome, awesome job!" she yelled over the speaker as we coasted and recovered from our efforts. "Harvard had us by half a boat length for a while there, but we came back! And our time was great - 5:40:09! Woo!"

I couldn't help but laugh at Bella's excitement. We all felt the electricity, too. The fastest crews from each heat would advance to the final. _Wonder how Skidmore did._ If our plan was going to work, they'd need to advance as well. It wouldn't be nearly as fun if the New York crew was eliminated in the trials.

Bella ordered us to paddle back to the dock - nice and slowly - and Coach Carlisle was waiting to catch us as we landed. His smile spoke volumes; but true to his own quiet way, he said nothing as we stepped out of the shell and pulled our oars in. Carlisle thumped me on the back as we walked the shell down the dock and up the small hill to our makeshift camp. Once the shell rested comfortably in its sling, most of the crew went to forage for food and drink.

"That was a great warm-up for later today, Strokie," Bella said, grabbing my hand. "It felt perfect. Did you feel it? We had good swing!"

"I know," I said, wanting so badly to kiss her. "You were amazing, Bella."

My coxie made a gesture of her cockiness, jokingly polishing her nails on her jacket, before laughing and adding, "Hey, it's what I do. One down, one to go!"

Together, we followed the crowds and got some lunch before heading back to the rest of the team. We found a quiet spot by the lake and sat down. Regatta Point was a beautiful spot at this time of year, and aptly named given what the lake was often used for.

"It's so nice here," Bella mused, as if reading my mind. I nodded as I chewed. "How do you say the name of it? I don't even know how to spell it."

"It's Lake Quin-sig-a-mond," I said, breaking it up into smaller pieces. "Spelled like it sounds. I know. I love it here. The lake really is perfect for sprint races like this. No current or waves to deal with, so starting from a dead stop is much easier."

When we finished our lunch, Bella and I headed back to our team. My eyes scanned the crowd for James and his crew, but the sea of people, boats and team jackets was too much to process.

"Bella, are you sure you can go through with this James thing?" I asked, making sure my coxie was still in favor of it. "I mean, if you're not sure, we can just shit-can the idea."

"No way, Strokie," Bella said, interrupting before I could go on. "His ass is _mine_."

"God, I love the way you think, coxie," I said, giving her ponytail a little tug. "And I love _you_, too." Bella returned the sentiment and said she wanted to confirm our race time before we got into our revenge plan. I met Jasper, Mike and Emmett back at our camp.

"Ed, you guys looked great out there this morning," Emmett said, whacking me on the back. "I was just telling J that it was pure poetry."

"Thanks, Emmett," I said, pulling the top of my uni down around my waist and throwing on a Brown t-shirt. "How'd the four do in the trials?"

Emmett grimaced but then managed a smile. "Eh, we were second across the finish line. Not sure if it'll be good enough to qualify for the final, but Alice is over with the judges checking the other crew's times."

My gut wrenched for Emmett and the idea of those guys and Alice not getting to race for the final, and it possibly hurting their chances at the IRA Championships in June. "Shit, man," I said, running my fingers through my wet hair. "It won't be right if you're not racing today."

The rest of the guys agreed sincerely, and Emmett thanked them. No sooner had we stopped talking, Alice _and_ Bella came running back to our crews.

"Guys, we did it!" Alice squealed. "We beat out Syracuse by a tenth of a second to qualify for the final!" Emmett swept Alice off her feet and Jake and the other guys from their boat ran down to the lake's edge as if they'd throw her in it in celebration. When they finally put her down, Alice smacked them all before kissing them.

"We are definitely in the final, too," Bella said quietly as all of us watched the display. Seven heads turned in her direction with questioning glances.

"We're in?" I asked. Bella nodded. A much more subdued, but equally thankful, celebration erupted in our camp with the news. "So's Skidmore, Edward," Bella whispered to me.

"_Perfect_."

Coach had given us three hours to eat, relax and do whatever else we wanted before we had to report to him before our final race. Most of us watched the other crews race in their finals, and then watched as the Brown crew men's coxed four went on to win it's final. Riding high from the win, it was difficult for us to relax, but eventually I fell asleep on the grass next to our trailer, my boathouse jacket behind my head as a pillow.

Some time later, a gentle nudge woke me from scattered images of rowing, winning and Bella.

"Hey, sleeping beauty. It's now or never," Bella said quietly, crouched close to my face. Rubbing my eyes, I nodded and stood. My coxie kept her distance from me as she informed me she'd located the Skidmore crew's camp, and James. There had been, after all, another reason for my lack of PDAs with her today.

"Go get 'em, tiger," I said, winking at her. Bella strode off, making a beeline for what I assumed was James's location. A quick look at Emmett and Jasper, and the three of us walked off at a distance behind her, hoping to scope out the action. Moments later, a still-wet-haired Alice and Rose caught up with us.

Thankfully, Bella had managed to pull James aside, away from his team but in perfect view of our vantage point from behind one of the nearby trailers. This was going to be good. Alice and Rose stifled giggles behind me as James's voice drifted over to us on a breeze.

"What the fuck -" he said with a choke as Bella pinned him against one of the Skidmore shells. I could see both of their faces in profile; it was clear she'd caught James by surprise.

"James, what's wrong? I thought you saw something you liked…"

"What about Cullen? I thought you two were a thing," he managed, inching slightly away from her. _Nowhere to go._

"Boring," Bella explained. "Never had time for stroking his cox, James. He was always too busy for me. All that rowing and erging." She yawned for effect. "I want a _real_ man, James." At that, she ran a finger down his neck and chest, which luckily for him was bare. Her finger stopped just above the lower half of his uni. I swore I could hear him swallow.

"But…but…you're -" he stammered. A slow, sexy smile turned Bella's lips upward.

"No timid little cox, James," she finished, using his own words. "I want to show you just what kind of champ I really am. You game?" Bella dragged her finger back up James's body until she reached his mouth, and then skimmed it across his mouth. He looked like a fucking deer in headlights. I stifled a laugh as I felt the others doing the same.

"Um…now?" he asked, incredulously. James's eyes roamed, searching for a proper spot, and for a moment I considered breaking him in half. Emmett's strong hand on my shoulder reminded me of reality.

"Oh, no, silly," Bella cooed. "After the race, of course." James considered it for a moment, and for a second I thought he might actually call her bluff. Thankfully, he was too cocky for that. A slow, confident grin distorted his face.

"Sure, baby," he said, stepping away from the boats and toward Bella. Emmett's hand remained firmly on my shoulder. To her credit, my coxie didn't even blink as she pressed herself against him and took his earlobe between her teeth. A quick check of my watch confirmed our flawless timing: we had less than 15 minutes before the final sprint.

I heard James groan and gritted my teeth. _Bella is going to get an Oscar for this one._

"Good luck, James," she purred, giving his ear one last lick. "I'll be watching you. It'd be a shame if you didn't win. See ya later." Then she sauntered away, walking right past our hiding place and leaving James in her wake. He looked after her, tilting his head for a better view of her ass, I guessed, smirked and shook his head before getting back to his crew.

Mission accomplished.

When we reconvened at our camp, there was hardly time for congratulating Bella on a job well done. As for me, I'd have to save my _true_ congratulations on her performance for after we'd returned to Rhode Island. For now, I nudged her and winked when she glanced at me. She returned the gesture and gave me a subtle hand squeeze as Coach started doling out orders.

Walking our shell down to the dock, I caught Bella just as she winked at James, who was already in his own boat and tying in his feet. It was enough to make him stop what he was doing - and long enough that his coxswain had to snap a few times to get his attention.

"You are way too convincing, love," I whispered as we slid the oars into the oarlocks, as Bella secured her cox box and checked her headset.

"I don't know _what_ you mean, Edward," she replied dramatically, making sure she kept her head down. Keeping a straight face presented quite a challenge, as I laced my feet in and secured the pin on the oarlock. As soon as we were laced in with oars fully extended, Bella told us to count down when ready.

"Eight," I said, my heart starting to race. This was it. Two thousand meters of truth. I glanced over and watched James. He was watching Bella. Before the electronic "gun" sounded, I focused my gaze on Coach, who stood on the dock. We nodded to each other.

"All right, coxie, let's fucking _do_ this," I said, molten embers of a fire stirring in my gut. Bella instantly put on her game face and reiterated the comment, minus my nickname for her, into the mic. A chorus of yells rushed toward the stern as the other crews did the same on either side of us. The air felt charged and thick with the gravity of what the next five or six minutes would mean to the six crews at the starting gate.

My coxie's eyes flickered to the other crews, and then I saw her lick her lips, seconds before the electronic beep signaled the start of the race. Bella immediately starting barking out commands, telling us to drive with the legs, finish strong, and watch the stroke. Her voice, once more, became part of my subconscious, constantly informing me of our stroke rate and demanding more power, more perfection. Always more.

"I want clean drives, fast hands-away, strong finish!" she yelled. "Set it up, boys! Let me see that beautiful swing!"

I ignored the burn in my lungs, thighs, back, shoulders and arms. I ignored the blood on the handle when one of my calluses opened. I ignored the sight from my peripheral vision of other boats surging ahead and falling back with each of our strokes. I ignored the race officials following close behind in their pontoon boats.

"Give me a power ten, guys - _ten_!" Bella called, giving us no two-stroke warning. We must have been close to another crew. Grunting through the strokes, I heard our coxie call out, "Look ahead!" and I beamed through the pain.

"Give me another!" she cried, her hands gripping the gunwales like her life depended on it. Again, the eight of us grunted and yelled our way through another set of life-draining catches, drives and recoveries. Again, I heard those sweet words. "Look ahead!"

At some point, my brain completely shut down, protecting itself from the punishment I levied against my body. Still, I propelled myself toward that finish line, with words of Carlisle, Esme and Bella ricocheting in the now-seemingly empty space.

_Heart of a lion._

_Desire. It's what separates us from them._

_Put it all on the line._

The boat twisted slightly, registering the resistance as one of my teammates caught a crab mid-power ten. Bella quickly took control, ordering the pair where the problem had occurred to fall out, then coaxing us and the boat back into form. She immediately called for another power ten as soon as everyone was back in it. Our coxie screamed at us, and we replied with all we had - and then some - until I heard the merciful, glorious beep as we crossed the finish line.

Eight men slumped over their oars, with not an ounce of strength remaining in them. A few, including me, bowed our heads over the gunwales and puked. A race well-fought is one with puking, I thought as I wiped my mouth. Bella, now completely hoarse from yelling, congratulated us with rasps and grabbed my bloody hand.

"You guys fucking did it!" she said, punctuating her statement with a cough. "I really think so. It was damn close…"

We all cheered despite the doubt; all of us had poured it all out. We'd found that place inside, brought it to the surface and fucking drowned in it, just as Coach had hoped. Surely, we had left it all on this lake. No regrets.

"Brown! Brown University! Followed by Harvard and Skidmore!" called a voice over the loudspeakers. Slowly, the news filtered through all of us, and there were cries of victory, claps and splashes of water as we came to our realization. I leaned over and kissed Bella, not giving a shit if anyone saw us. She returned the fervor, oblivious to decorum and how bad my mouth probably tasted. I gave an exhausted fist-pump and turned to congratulate the other guys. Bella finally had us paddle back to the dock, where people were cheering and Coaches Carlisle _and_ Esme were waiting.

With shaky legs, we stepped from the boat, to receive hugs and kisses from everyone who could get close enough. The other crews came over to congratulate us as well, though James was nowhere to be found. Somehow we managed to bring in the oars and the boat, before the real celebration started.

Scooping Bella into my arms, I walked her down to the water. She didn't notice that seven others followed.

"Thank you," I said in earnest as I kissed her nose. "We could never have done this without you."

Then the eight of us grabbed Bella and tossed her into Lake Quinsigamond - clothes and all.

A loud roar of appreciation exploded from the crowd as Bella rose from the water, agape and smiling. We all clapped as she stumbled out of the water, looking like the happiest drowned rat. I offered her my jacket and as she pulled her arms into it, I whispered, "I love you, coxie."

"Love you too, Strokie," she said, wiping wet hair away from her eyes. A throat clearing brought us back to the present.

"Dad?" Bella said, astonished to see her father standing before us. The chief looked quite out of place in this crowd, but his smile was familiar.

"Baby, you did so well today," he said, coming closer and extending his hand to me with a knowing smile. "Edward."

"Chief."

"I'm…I'm so proud of you," he said, refocusing on his daughter. Bella pulled him into a wet hug and the two of them stayed that way, simply hanging onto each other.

"Matt would be so proud of you, too, Bells," I heard Charlie whisper.

"I did it for him, you know," she replied with a sniffle. Her father nodded and said he thought it was a fitting tribute. Once they'd chatted for a while, I invited Charlie back to our house that evening; he accepted, but only if I'd let him pick up takeout for dinner. For all of us.

"Dad, will you excuse us for a bit, please?" Bella said, kissing him on the cheek. "I have some unfinished business to attend to. I'll be back." Then she pulled me away and toward the other crews.

It wasn't difficult to find James. "So, you think you're so badass, huh? God's gift to rowing and women?" Bella said, poking a finger into James's chest. "Well, look who got played. And, by the looks of it, you need some new undies, too. Jimmy Skidmarks lives."

It might have been grease from the rollers and his seat; it didn't matter. James's uni was indeed stained with something dark. Before he had a chance to even offer a rebuttal, Bella stepped closer and glared up at him.

"Don't _ever_ underestimate me or my crew again, dickhead," she seethed. "It'll be your mistake - every time." Then she turned and walked away.

"See ya, James," I said with a smile. "It's been great."

On our way back to Charlie, I heard my name being called. Glancing over Bella's head, I saw Hank and Marcia waving frantically while walking toward us. I put my arm around Bella and kissed the top of her wet head.

"Coxie strikes again, I'm guessing," I said. Bella just grinned at me.

"Edward, oh, sweetie, you did amazing things out there!" exclaimed Marcia as she wrapped her arms around me in a vise grip. Hank grinned and patted me on the back and she continued to gush. "We're so happy we were able to finally see it!"

"Hank, Marcia, I'm so glad you guys are here," I said, truly glad to see their smiling faces. The two of them traded pleasantries and hugs with Bella, and then I steered them toward our destination, inviting them back to the house as well. "There's someone I'd like for you both to meet." I introduced them to Bella's father, and we all talked for a bit about the race.

"Edward, don't you think you should get that hand looked at?" Charlie asked me finally, gesturing to my callused and bloodied palm. I'd forgotten all about it.

"Oh, right, I will, sir," I assured him. "Don't even feel it anymore, though."

Charlie winked at me, his mustache twitching. "Like that saying: pain is temporary. Pride is forever."

"Damn right, Chief," I replied. Looking at Bella, it suddenly seemed clear.

"Eat. Sleep. Love. Erg. Row," I said to them. "What else is there?"

_A/N: Just so you all know, it is tradition for the winning crew to throw its coxswain into the water after a race. _

_I know that chapter contained a lot. Hopefully it wasn't too much to absorb and even more, it answered most of your lingering questions. I've greatly enjoyed this ride, and am so glad I decided to write a rowing fic. It was as much for my own nostalgia as it was for your collective entertainment._

_To all of you, thank you._


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